Calasiris the Pseudo-Greek Hero: Odyssean Allusions in Heliodorus' Aethiopica

Home , Aethiopica, Ancient Greek novel, Leucippe, Telemachy

Christina Marie Bartley

A thesis submitted in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master’s degree in Classical Studies

Department of Classics and Religious Studies Faculty of Arts University of Ottawa

Table of Contents

 Abbreviations ...... iii  Abstract ...... vi  Acknowledgements ...... vii  Introduction ...... viii 1. The Structural Markers of the Aethiopica ...... 1 1.1.Homeric Strategies of Narration ...... 2 1.1.1. In Medias Res ...... 3 1.2. Narrative Voices ...... 8 1.2.1. The Anonymous Primary Narrator ...... 9 1.2.2. Calasiris...... 10 1.2.3. Cnemon ...... 13 1.3. Aesthetics and their Role in the Narrative ...... 22 2. The Episodic Markers of the Aethiopica ...... 25 2.1.The Opening Scene as the Mnesterophonia...... 26 2.2.The Bandit Camp as the Telemachy...... 31 2.3.Nausicles’ House as Alcinous’ Palace ...... 31 2.4.The Procession in Honour of Neoptolemus and the Pythian Games as the Phaeacian Games ...... 37 2.5.The Escape from Delphi as the Cyclopeia ...... 39 2.6.Three Different Versions of the Nekyia ...... 41 2.7.Calasiris and Charicleia’s Recognition Scenes ...... 46 3. Heliodorus’ Allusive Commentary on the Odyssey ...... 51 3.1. Calasiris as the Wise Odysseus ...... 53 3.2.Theagenes as the Bodily Odysseus ...... 62 3.3.Charicleia as the New Odysseus ...... 69  Conclusion ...... 75  Bibliography I: Ancient Sources ...... 81  Bibliography II: References ...... 83

Abbreviations

Achilles Tatius, Leucippe and Clitophon. Translated by John J. Winkler. Collected Ancient Greek Novels. Edited by B. P. Ach. Tat. Reardon. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989.

Aeschylus, Oresteia: Agamemnon. Libation Bearers. Eumenides. Edited and translated by Alan H. Sommerstein. Aesch., Cho. Loeb Classical Library 146. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009.

Aeschylus, Persians. Seven Against Thebes. Suppliants. Prometheus Bound. Edited and translated by Alan H. Aesch., Pers. Sommerstein. Loeb Classical Library 145. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009.

Apollodorus, The Library, Volume I. Translated by James G. Apollod., Bibl. Frazer. Loeb Classical Library 121. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1921.

Apollonius Rhodius, Argonautica. Edited and translated by Ap. Rhod., Argon. William H. Race. Loeb Classical Library 1. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2009.

Aristotle, Nicomachean Ethics. Translated by H. Rackham. Loeb Classical Library 73. Cambridge, MA: Harvard Arist., Eth. Nic. University Press, 1926.

Aristotle, Poetics. Longinus: On the Sublime. Demetrius: On Style. Translated by Stephen Halliwell. Loeb Classical Library Arist., Poet. 199. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1995.

Aristotle, On the Soul. Parva Naturalia. On Breath. Translated by W. S. Hett. Loeb Classical Library 288. Cambridge, MA: Arist., Parv. Nat. Harvard University Press, 1957.

Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Dionysii Halicarnasei Antiquitatum Romanarum quae supersunt, Vol I-IV. Translated Dion. Hal., Ant. Rom. by Karl Jacoby. Leipzig: Teubner, 1885.

Dionysius of Halicarnassus. De Imitatione., in Opusculorum Volumen, ed. H. Usener and L. Radermacher (Stuttgart 1965) Dion. Hal., De Imit. 202-3; quoted in Hellmut Flashar, “Die Klassizistische Theorie der Mimesis,” Entretiens sur l'Antiquité Classique 25. (1979): 88n.1.

iii

Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Critical Essays Vol. II: On Literary Composition. Dinarchus. Letters to Ammaeus and Pompeius. Dion. Hal., Comp. Translated by Stephen Usher. Loeb Classical Library 466. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1985.

Euripides, Children of Heracles. Hippolytus. Andromache. Hecuba. Edited and translated by David Kovacs. Loeb Classical Eur., Hipp. Library 484. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1995.

Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story. Translated by J. R. Morgan. Collected Ancient Greek Novels. Edited by B. P. Reardon. Heliod., Aeth. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989; Héliodore, Les Éthiopiques. 3 vols. 2nd ed. Translated by J. Maillon. Edited by R. M. Rattenbury and Rev. T. W. Lumb. Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1960.

Homer, Homeri Opera in five volumes. Edited by David B. Hom., Il. Munro and Thomas W. Allen. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1920.

Homer, The Odyssey with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, PH.D. 2 vols. Translated by A. T. Murray. Cambridge, Hom., Od. MA: Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd., 1919.

Horace, Satires. Epistles. The Art of Poetry. Translated by H. Hor., Ars P. Rushton Fairclough. Loeb Classical Library 194. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1926.

[Longinus], Subl. Longinus, Poetics. Longinus: On the Sublime. Demetrius: On Style. Translated by Stephen Halliwell. Loeb Classical Library 199. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1995.

Liddell, Henry George, Robert Scott, and Henry Stuart Jones. A LSJ Greek-English Lexicon. 9th ed. with revised supplement. Oxford: Clarendon, 1996.

Macrobius Ambrosius Theodosius, Commentary on the Dream Macrob., In Somn. of Scipio by Macrobius. Translated by William Harris Stahl. New York: Columbia University Press, 1990.

Philostratus, Heroicus. Gymnasticus. Discourses 1 and 2. Edited and translated by Jeffrey Rusten and Jason König. Loeb Philostr., Her. Classical Library 521. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2014.

Plato, Phaedrus, Translated by Harold N. Fowler. Plato in Pl., Phdr. Twelve Volumes, vol. 9. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd., 1925.

Plato, Republic, Volume I. Edited and translated by Chris Pl., Resp. Emlyn-Jones and William Preddy. Loeb Classical Library 237. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2013.

Plutarch, “Can Virtue Be Taught?” Moralia, Volume VI. Plut., Mor. De Prof. Virt. Translated by W. C. Helmbold. Loeb Classical Library 337. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1939.

Plut., Vit. Ant. Plutarch, Lives: Demetrius and Antony, Pyrrhus and Gaius Marius, Volume IX. Translated by Bernadotte Perrin. Loeb Classical Library 101. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1920.

Polyb. Polybius. Historiae. Edited by Theodorus Büttner-Wobst and L. Dindorf. Leipzig: Teubner, 1893.

Quint., Inst. Quintilian, Institutio Oratoria With An English Translation. Edited by Harold Edgeworth Butler. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd., 1922.

Strabo, Geographica. Edited by A. Meineke. Leipzig: Teubner. Strab. 1877.

Abstract This thesis seeks to analyze the Homeric allusions in the Aethiopica with an inclusive definition to explore Heliodorus’ authorial motives. To approach this project, I use textual analysis to avoid arguments rooted in assumptions of the historical context of the novel, about which we know almost nothing. I explore how links to Homer’s Odyssey are visible within the structural organization of the text and the content of the text. I also explore how the content of the novel reproduces actions and compatible settings of Odyssean characters, which therefore qualifies Heliodorus’ characters in a metaliterary commentary with Homer’s archaic epic poem. The division of Odyssean actions and traits depicted in Heliodorus’ characters introduce a new addition to the heroic legacy established by Homer and distances the hero from Greek identity. I conclude that Heliodorus’ adherences to epic conventions and departures thereof inform the subtextual commentaries conveyed in the Aethiopica.

Résumé Cette thèse cherche à analyser les allusions homériques dans Les Éthiopiques avec une définition inclusive pour explorer les motivations d'Héliodore. Pour aborder ce projet, j'utilise l'analyse textuelle afin d'éviter les arguments ancrés dans les hypothèses du contexte historique du roman, dont nous ne savons presque rien. J'explore la manière dont les liens avec l'Odyssée d'Homère sont visibles dans l'organisation structurelle du texte et le contenu du texte. J'explore également la manière dont le contenu du roman reproduit les actions et les cadres compatibles avec personnages de l'Odyssée, ce qui permet de définir les personnages d'Héliodore dans un commentaire métalittéraire avec le poème épique d'Homère. La répartition des actions et des traits propres à Ulysse entre les personnages d'Héliodore introduit un nouvel ajout à l'héritage héroïque des poèmes homériques et éloigne les héros de l'identité grecque. Je conclus que les adhésions et les dérogations d'Héliodore aux conventions épiques informent les commentaires sous-textuels véhiculés dans Les Éthiopiques.

Acknowledgements In the same way that Calasiris supported Charicleia and Theagenes in the Aethiopica, the generous guidance that encouraged and supported the development of my study resulted in the creation of this thesis project. Above all, I would like to express my deep gratitude to my supervisor, Professor Bussières, who patiently answered every email, met with me weekly both in person and online after the lockdown of COVID-19, and diligently read every draft I sent her. Her dedication and support to the formulation of the research questions and methodology of this thesis project was gracious and inspiring. She taught me reliable skills that grew my confidence in the project and encouraged the addition of my own ideas. I am not only grateful in her work to help the creation of this thesis to occur, but also because she has taught me a set of academic skills that I will use for the rest of my life. I would also like to thank the other professors in the Department of Classical and Religious Studies at the University of Ottawa. In my time at the University, both as an undergraduate and as a graduate student, the department has always been supportive, kind, and helpful. In particular, I would like to thank Professors Burgess and Bhola, who patiently taught me ancient Greek over the course of several years, without whom I would have been unable to read and analyze the passages of the Aethiopica from the original source material. I would also like to thank Professors Greatrex and Piovanelli, who both emphasized the importance of citing sources not just in English, but rather the most relevant scholarly sources available, which led me to some intensely interesting German, Italian, and French studies of the ancient novels. I am also deeply grateful for the support given to me by my colleagues. To Alexandra Beraldin and Julia Mitchell, I would like to thank their help both in the translation of research and the editing of this thesis project. Without their help, this project would have looked quite different, and certainly would have lacked much of the nuance achieved in the formulation of the final product. I would also like to single out Lydia Schriemer-Vienneau, JaShong King, Scott Winges, George Amanatidis-Saadé, Joey Ficocelli, and Nicole Iu, who provided stimulating discussions that certainly encouraged my research and inspired me throughout the duration of the project in various ways. I am so grateful to know you all and wish you all the warmest of regards in future dissertations, post-doctoral pursuits, and careers. Finally, I would like to thank the wise counsel and sympathetic ears of my family, without whom I certainly would not have found the strength and perseverance to pursue this thesis project. To my parents for their sympathetic and motivating speeches and to my brothers and sisters for inspiring me in their own passionate pursuit of music, history, interactive literature, and the culinary arts, I am so grateful to have you all in my life and I count myself so lucky to have grown up beside you. To my family in Ottawa, the Beraldins, Pelosos, Radulescus, and Picas, who invited me into their homes and famiglia while I wrote this MA thesis, I am just so grateful to all of you for your unwavering kindness. Last, but certainly not least, to Gianpiero Beraldin, who has not only been a pillar of support these last few years, but also a valued companion and confidant, you have my most sincere gratitude and my whole heart forever.

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Introduction The Aethiopica1 contains an original narrative that is tied closely to the Homeric literary tradition. The nature of the interaction between the novel and the Homeric epics has been a subject of interest over the last century. While the identification of the extant ancient novels as a genre is disputable due to its notable absence in contemporary grammarian works on literature2 and many of these texts only survive in fragments, it is generally recognized that the plots of the ancient novels, especially the Greek novels, adhered to a similar pattern of character tropes and situations.3 One of these tropes that the novels all share is distinct references to Homer. In particular, since the main plots of the novels portray a journey that follows the characters across the Mediterranean, all the texts display some resemblance to the Odyssey.4 Each of the Greek novels, however, plays to various degrees with different kinds of Homeric emulation. Chariton’s novel, for instance, contains such a large number of verbatim quotations from Homer’s epic,5 that it has been labelled a

1 This novel was written by Heliodorus of Emesa in the Late Imperial Period. For a brief overview of Heliodorus, see J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 349-353. 2 Macrob., In Somn., 1.2.7-8; Niklas Holzberg, “The Genre: Novels Proper and the Fringe,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 15-16; Bernhard Kytzler, Introduction to Im Reiche des Eros: Sämtliche Liebe – und Abenteuerromane der Antike. 2 vols. (Düsseldorf: Patmos Verlag; Albatros Verlag, 2001), 5-8. The only contemporary grammarian, Macrobius, provides evidence of an awareness of the novel (argumenta). Macrobius’ attestation acknowledged the ancient novels as a genre, which was further reinforced by the similarities between the texts that survive from late antiquity. 3 B. P. Reardon, introduction to Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 2-3; Niklas Holzberg, “The Genre: Novels Proper and the Fringe,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 14. 4 Alain Billault, La création romanesque dans la littérature grecque à l’époque impériale, (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1991), 8; Massimo Fusillo, “Modern Critical Theories,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 278; Clinton Walker Keyes, “The Structure of Heliodorus’ “Aethiopica”,” Studies in Philology 19, no.1 (1922): 42-51; Victor Hefti, “Zur Erzählungstechnik in Heliodors Aethiopica,” (PhD diss., Universität Basel, 1950), 98-103; Patrick Robiano, “La citation poétique dans le roman érotique grec,” Revue des Études Anciennes 102, no. 3-4. (2000): 514; J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 295; Marília Futre-Pinheiro, “Heliodorus, the Ethiopian Story,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 82, 87; Susan Stephens, “The Other Greek Novels,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014, 148; Luca Graverini, Wytse Hette Keulen, and Alessandro Barchiesi. Il romanzo antico: forme, testi, problemi, 1st ed., (Roma: Carocci, 2006), 37; “From the Epic to the Novelistic Hero,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 288-299; Giuseppe Zanetto, “Greek Novel and Archaic Greek Literature,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 400-401. 5 J. R. Morgan, “Intertextuality,” The Cambridge Companion to the Greek and Roman Novel, ed. Tim Whitmarsh. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 219; Consuelo Ruiz-Montero, “The Rise of the Greek Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 54. See also, Anna Lefteratou, Mythological Narratives: The Bold and Faithful Heroines of the Greek Novel, (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 2018), 15-16. viii

prosimetrum.6 In addition to some quotations of Homer,7 Achilles Tatius produces a novel that comically reinterprets Homeric characters and plot points.8 Heliodorus, on the other hand, produces a narrative that simultaneously includes the attributes of both Chariton’s and Achilles Tatius’ novels while also introducing structural elements that fundamentally relate the Aethiopica to the Odyssey beyond what the other novels achieve.9 In addition to the structural attributes, Heliodorus also presents the only example of an epic character appearing in an ancient novel, which led scholars to classify his novel as a metaliterary metaphor for the novelistic genre replacing that of the epic.10 If it is true that the Aethiopica was written as late as the sixth century and therefore one of the latest of the five Greek novels,11 it is not without consequence to think that Heliodorus included a reflection on the genre to his narrative.

Before I embark on the analysis of the Aethiopica’s epic allusions, it is important to establish what the ancients understood as an allusion and how I will use the concept. The purpose of ancient allusions is obfuscated by our modern perspective on what an allusion is and our obsession with the quotation. Since most ancient authors cited from memory, most of the time without reference, especially in narrative works,12 our understanding of the allusive layers of an

6 Stefan Tilg, Chariton of Aphrodisias and the Invention of the Greek Love Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 145-146. 7 Kathryn Chew, “Achilles Tatius and Parody,” The Classical Journal 96, no. 1 (2000): 57-58; Stefan Tilg, Chariton of Aphrodisias and the Invention of the Greek Love Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 141; This point is contested by Graverini, who argues that Achilles Tatius produces no textual connections to Homer. See, Luca Graverini, “From the Epic to the Novelistic Hero,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 289. 8 Luca Graverini, “From the Epic to the Novelistic Hero,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 289; Stefan Tilg, Chariton of Aphrodisias and the Invention of the Greek Love Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 144. 9 B. P. Reardon, introduction to Collected Ancient Greek Novels. Edited by B. P. Reardon. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989, 9; Massimo Fusillo, “Modern Critical Theories,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 283; Jonas Grethlein, “Minding the Middle in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica: False Closure, Triangular Foils and Self-Reflection,” The Classical Quarterly 66, no.1 (2016): 316-317. 10 Margaret Doody, The True Story of the Novel, (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1996), 2. “Twentieth- century historians and critics defending the Novel have emphasized the Novel’s role as superseding something else…Traditionally, what the Novel was thought to displace – and replace – was the Epic. And for this view the antique novel itself bears some responsibility; Heliodorus figures the displacement of the Odyssey in the comic apparition of a grumbling Odysseus to one of the characters in his novel.” 11 B. P. Reardon, introduction to Collected Ancient Greek Novels. Edited by B. P. Reardon. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989, 5; Ewen Bowie, “The Ancient Readers of the Greek Novels,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 93-95. 12 Massimo Fusillo, “Il Testo Nel Testo: La Citazione Nel Romanzo Greco.” Materiali E Discussioni per L'analisi Dei Testi Classici, no. 25 (1990): 29. “È noto che l'antichità classica non conosceva né la riproduzione seriale del libro né il concetto di proprietà letteraria: si citava in genere a memoria, manipolando l'originale a seconda del proprio scopo e senza segnalare l'operazione con quelle marche materiali che sono per noi le virgolette ο la completa indicazione bibliografica.” ix

ancient text rely significantly on the various styles of modern editions13 and on what the modern editor of a given text understood as quoted or paraphrased material.14 This discrepancy in understanding a quotation has led to the cultivation of inconsistent data when scholars have made attempts to asses the number of allusions to Homer available in each of the five novels.15 In an effort to isolate the quotations from the allusions, it has been suggested to rely on poetic metres in texts.16 This method, however, did not remedy all inconsistencies, since it omits the identification of isolated instances of quoted vocabulary. Heliodorus’ novel, for instance, contains many short extracts of Homeric vocabulary. Therefore, the count of metric segments produces much fewer counts of Homeric allusions in the Aethiopica compared to Chariton’s novel, whose long quotations distinguish it from other iterations of the genre. In addition to metre to identify quotations, allusions can be signalled using words borrowed from the archaic dialect of Homeric poems that would have been recognized by contemporary readers.17 Since the changes in dialect may be identified regardless of the number of words per quotation, this strategy accommodates a new approach to allusive material in the study of the novels.

Since the purpose behind the collection of quotations is to reveal how much each novel is influenced by Homer, however, quotations alone fail to paint a clear image of Homeric presence in the ancient novels. While a quotation does display the malleability of a phrase in a new context,18

13 René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 3. 14 René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 8-9. 15 Alain Billault, La création romanesque dans la littérature grecque à l’époque impériale. (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1991), 112. “Achille Tatius cite l’Iliade trois fois, l’Odyssée une fois, Héliodore l’Iliade neuf fois, l’Odyssée une fois, Chariton l’Iliade dix-sept fois, l’Odyssée neuf fois. En revanche, Xénophon d’Éphèse et Longus ne pratiquent pas la citation.”; Stefan Tilg, Chariton of Aphrodisias and the Invention of the Greek Love Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010), 141. “Chariton quotes Homer far more frequently than any other novelist does – about thirty to forty times depending on the definition of a quotation. Achilles Tatius has two quotations from Homer, Heliodorus fifteen; Xenophon of Ephesus and Longus do not quote at all.” Tilg uses Patrick Robiano’s definition of a quotation in ancient literature, which identifies a quotation by a shift in poetic metre. See, Patrick Robiano, “La citation poétique dans le roman érotique grec,” Revue des Études Anciennes 102, no. 3-4. (2000): 510n.3; 511n.6; 511-512; Dupriez and Bompaire define a quotation as a direct reproduction of the text whether emulated by verbatim or as a paraphrase. Bernard Marie Dupriez, “Citation,” Gradus: les procédés littéraires: dictionnaire, (Paris: Union générale d’éditions, 1981), 114. 16 Patrick Robiano, “La citation poétique dans le roman érotique grec,” Revue des Études Anciennes 102, no. 3-4. (2000): 511-512. 17 This method is employed both in J. R. Morgan’s translation of Heliodorus’ novel and the Budé edition. See Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 353-588; Héliodore, Les Éthiopiques, 3 vols, trans. J. Maillon, ed. R. M. Rattenbury and Rev. T. W. Lumb, (Paris: Les Belles Lettres, 1960). 18 Massimo Fusillo, “Il Testo Nel Testo: La Citazione Nel Romanzo Greco.” Materiali E Discussioni per L'analisi Dei Testi Classici, no. 25 (1990): 27-28. “Butor intendeva comunque sottoli neare la peculiarità pregnante dell'atto di x

they are not the only forms of allusive language that may paraphrase extratextual material in an entirely new form of description. These new forms may summarize or expand upon the original text or may simply use synonymous language that better suits the contexts of the alluding text.19 Not only does the analysis of quotations without further investigation indicates only a partial understanding of the allusions in the five canonical novels, but the act of narrowing allusions simply to quotations falls short of ancient ideas of allusion, which encompass the multiple approaches of emulation.

The Greek tradition does not offer a comprehensive definition of an allusion.20 Dionysius of Halicarnassus builds on Aristotelian understandings of imitation as an artistic rendering of nature21 and complements the concept of imitation with that of emulation in the context of forming literary links to existing literature or known behaviour.22 While only fragments survive of Dionysius’ work on this subject, the extant passages identify a process of collection from a body of canonical authors.23 Longinus expands on Dionysius’ definitions of imitation and emulation as literary devices24 and emphasizes the act of emulation not as thievery, but rather as impressions rooted to known characters and forms.25 From a corpus of ancient scholia, René Nünlist collects and identifies the use of the term αἰνίττεσθαι, which is, among other meanings, used to refer to a

citare: prelevare un testo dal suo contesto originario significa sempre trasformarne i tratti, anche quando lo si fa nel modo più neutro…” 19 Gérard Genette, Figures III : collection Poétique, (Paris: Éditions du Seuil. 1972), 130-144. 20 René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 3. “[The] individual terms [of ancient stylistic devices] are often used with so little consistency that a presentation of the evidence which takes the Greek terms as its primary organising principle does not seem advisable.” 21 Arist. Poet., 1447a. “ἐποποιία δὴ καὶ ἡ τῆς τραγῳδίας ποίησις ἔτι δὲ κωμῳδία καὶ ἡ διθυραμβοποιητικὴ καὶ τῆς αὐλητικῆς ἡ πλείστη καὶ κιθαριστικῆς πᾶσαι τυγχάνουσιν οὖσαι μιμήσεις τὸ σύνολον…” 22 Dion. Hal. De Imit. Fr. 6. “ἐπὰν ζηλώσῃ τις τὸ παρʹ ἑκαστῳ τῶν παλαιῶν βέλτιον εἶναι δοκοῦν καὶ καθάπερ ἐκ πολλῶν ναμάτων ἐν τι συγκομίσας ῥεῦμα τοῦτ' εἰς τὴν ψυχὴν μετοχετεύση…” Dionysius of Halicarnassus. De Imitatione, Opusculorum Volumen, ed. H. Usener and L. Radermacher, (Stuttgart: Teubner, 1965) 202-3; quoted in Hellmut Flashar, “Die Klassizistische Theorie der Mimesis,” Entretiens sur l'Antiquité Classique 25, (1979): 88n.1; Ellen E. Perry, “Rhetoric, Literary Criticism, and the Roman Aesthetics of Artistic Imitation,” Memoirs of the American Academy in Rome. Supplementary Volumes, Vol. 1 (2002): 162; Caspar C. de Jonge, Between Grammar and Rhetoric: Dionysius of Halicarnassus on Language, Linguistics and Literature, (Leiden: Brill, 2008),11; For examples of emulating behaviour, see Dion. Hal., Ant. Rom., 8.31. 23 Hellmut Flashar, “Die Klassizistische Theorie der Mimesis,” Entretiens sur l'Antiquité Classique 25. (1979): 88. Flashar uses Quintilian rather than Longinus to supplement Dionysius’ definition of mimesis and zelosis, who reads zelosis (or in Latin, aemulatio) as the supplication of invention to accompany or become applied to an imitated idea or concept. Quint. Inst. 10.2.2-7. 24 [Longinus], Subl.,13.1-4. 25 [Longinus], Subl.,13.4. “ἔστιν δ᾿ οὐ κλοπὴ τὸ πρᾶγμα, ἀλλ᾿ ὡς ἀπὸ καλῶν ἠθῶν ἡ πλασμάτων ἢ δημιουργημάτων ἀποτύπωσις.”; There is sufficient evidence to suggest that Longinus and Dionysius’ understanding of emulation was understood as a way to appropriate an existing style in Plutarch and Strabo’s usage, who both refer to the Asiatic style as “ὁ Ἀσιανὸς Ζήλος.” Strab. 14.1.41; Plut., Vit. Ant., 2. xi

historical or literary allusion in surviving fragments of ancient literary criticism. In other uses, the term refers to the identification of hidden messages or riddles.26 The differences between the various scholia’s usage of αἰνίττεσθαι and Dionysius and Longinus’ use of ζήλωσις hints at two different approaches to allusive material. Since αἰνίττεσθαι also refers to hidden messages and riddles, this approach suggests the authorial intention to test his reader’s literary comprehension, whereas the etymological ties to ζήλωσις imply the term to depict an author’s desire to have his text compared in quality to the emulated source text. While these two terms differ in the interpretation of an allusion, both terms imply the power of the author as the sole creator of the allusion.

A large body of modern studies have attempted to define what an allusion is, what it does, and what causes it to occur. I will avoid using intertextuality, although it has been used to talk about allusion, because the term was coined to describe an approach between two semiotic systems, which includes but is not limited to literary texts.27 Similar to the ancient interpretation of allusions, early studies identify the term exclusively as the product of a conscious choice by an author to draw a comparison between two texts.28 Later definitions emphasize how allusions are identifiable in texts independently from the author’s intentions because a text may only be understandable in the context of their culture.29 The following development of structuralism offered new interpretations of an allusion as an extension to the multidisciplinary study of semiotics.30 By approaching allusions as a literary referent, definitions developed descriptions of

26 René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 225-237. 27 Julia Kristeva originally coined the term intertextuality to refer to a semiotic transposition between two comparative systems. Julia Kristeva, Desire in Language: A Semiotic Approach to Literature and Art, ed. Leon S. Roudiez, translated by Thomas Gora, Alice Jardine, and Leon S. Roudiez, (New York: Columbia University Press, 1980), 66. Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 14-15. On some reservations for the term allusion, see S. Hinds, Allusion and Intertextual Dynamics of Appropriation in Roman Poetry, Roman Literature and its Contexts, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1998), 21. 28 Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 7-14. 29 Giorgio Pasquali, Orazio Lirico: Studi, (Firenze: Le Monnier, 1964),104-140; Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 13. 30 Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 16. “Literary Structuralism arose in the merging of linguistic and anthropological methodologies that privileged the sign as the normative object of analysis. It was, therefore, a movement especially open to allusion, since allusion had always been considered a species of reference, a discrete way of signifying something. Unlike the New Critics, moreover, the Structuralists saw in allusion a discrete literary form functioning apart from authorial intention and control.”; Gérard Genette, Palimpsests: Literature in the Second xii the allusion as a process of recognizing an interrelation.31 This work has paved the way for studies to identify the power of the reader as the focal figure in the recognition process. The identification of the reader as the primary figure centres the idea of an allusion around the role of interpretation, rather than that of authorship.32 While the significance of interpretation is hinted at in Structuralist theories, the lack of attention to the interpreting figure, particularly in the study of ancient texts, fails to acknowledge the difference between an interpretation made by a reader within the same cultural and temporal context of the author and a reader who interprets outside of that context. Due to the nature of figurative language as a substitute of literal meaning, an allusion invites the literal meaning of the alluded text into the space of the alluding text as a figurative addition, a syllepsis, and thus embodies multiple meanings at the same time.33 The identification of an allusive context has been described in comparison to a metaphor, which depends on the cultural knowledge of the interpreter to identify the meaning behind the figurative language.34 Coincidentally, the remarks that compare an allusion to metaphorical language identify the same gap between an intended written meaning and an apparent interpreted meaning that Plato identifies as a problematic design

Degree. Translated by Channa Newman and Claude Doubinsky. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1997), 8; Figures III : collection Poétique, (Paris: Éditions du Seuil. 1972), 271. 31 Ziva Ben-Porat, “The Poetics of Literary Allusion,” PTL: A Journal for Descriptive Poetics and Theory of Literature I. (Berkeley: University of California, 1976) 105-128, quoted in Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 16. “The literary allusion is a device for the simultaneous activation of two texts. The activation is achieved through the manipulation of a special signal: a sign (simple or complex) in a given text characterized by a larger ‘referent.’ This referent is always an independent text. The simultaneous activation of the two texts thus connected results in the formation of intertextual patterns whose nature cannot be predetermined.”; Carmela Perri, “On Alluding,” Poetics 7, 291-292; William Porter, Reading the Classics and Paradise Lost, (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1993), 38. “Allusion, in other words, is neither a borrowing nor theft…It involves, rather, the recognition of what the surface of the text is doing.”; Michael Riffaterre, “Interpretation and Undecidability,” New Literary History 12, no. 2 (1981): 228. “But the very core of the literary experience is that perceiving mode known as intertextuality. The text refers not to objects outside of itself, but to an intertext. The words of the text signify not by referring to things, but by presupposing other texts.” 32 Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 47. “The literary allusion is the verbal moment in a subsequent text of a specific and verifiable verbal moment in a prior text, generated through the collusion of authorial and readerly intent, neither controlled nor limited by the language that constitutes it, in which a bundle of potential meanings obtains, retrievable at any given time only in part.” 33 Michael Riffaterre, “Syllepsis,” Critical Inquiry 6, no. 4 (1980): 629; Graham Allen, Intertextuality: The New Critical Idiom, (New York: Routledge, 2011), 118. 34 Gian Biagio Conte, The Rhetoric of Imitation: Genre and Poetic Memory in Vergil and Other Latin Poets, ed. and trans. Charles Segal. (New York: Cornell University Press, 1996), 23-24. “Allusion, I suggest, functions like the trope of classical rhetoric. A rhetorical trope is usually defined as the figure created by dislodging of a term from its old sense and its previous usage and by transferring to a new, improper, or “strange” sense and usage. The gap between the letter and the sense in figuration is the same as the gap produced between the immediate, surface meaning of the word or phrase in the text and the thought evoked by the allusion.” xiii

in the clarity of reading compared to that of dialogue.35 In the case of the allusion, however, the cultural knowledge is tied to a specific text, which narrows the interpretation to the contexts of the emulated scenes and how it has been invited into the new scene. Even though the identification of the allusion as the interpretive tool for the reader fundamentally understands the audience of a text as the main authority, the definition is problematic because it is predicated on the idea that the “marker” of an allusion must be verbal.

While the ancient definitions of an allusion identify two motivators for the use of an allusion, modern scholarship has developed several theories for it. A recurring problem in the study of philology is not, as has been suggested, the intentions of ancient authors when they write their novels,36 but rather, the possible interpretations available to the contemporary audience of the novels. Very little is known about the audiences of the ancient novel, although the references available in all the Greek novels suggest, at the very least, a cursory knowledge of Homer was available to most readers.37 Heliodorus’ use of Homeric language and literary techniques displays a desire for the readers to access and understand the interplay Heliodorus establishes between his novel and Homer far more than the use of quotation. Additionally, Heliodorus’ links to Homer are enhanced by the multiple citations of Euripides, which further link the novel to the extended fictional universe established by Homer through the Athenian playwright’s Classical interpretations and expansions on the Homeric literary tradition. Modern critics observe the interpretation of literature through their interpretation as a reader, commenting on the contextual changes that either changes the original meaning of the allusion to accommodate a new figurative

35 Pl., Phdr.,275C-D; Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 53-55. 36 Gian Biagio Conte, The Rhetoric of Imitation: Genre and Poetic Memory in Vergil and Other Latin Poets, ed. and trans. Charles Segal. (New York: Cornell University Press, 1996), 27. “The philologist who seeks at all costs to read intention into imitation will inevitably fall into a psychological reconstruction of motive, whether it is homage, admiring compliment, parody, or the attempt to improve upon the original.”; Stephen Nimis, “In Mediis Rebus: Beginning Again in the Middle of the Ancient Novel,” The Ancient Novel and Beyond, ed. Stelios Panayotakis, M. Zimmerman, and Keulen Wytse Hette, (Leiden: Brill, 2003), 257. “[An] author’s intentions and interests might evolve in the very act of composing the novel, and that evidence of this development will be legible in the finished work.” 37 Ewen Bowie, “The Ancient Readers of the Greek Novels,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 92. “At the same time it may be reasonable to insist… that in the “sophistic” novels too “narrative suspense, emotional impact, the escapist function were there for all,” and that their writers may have envisaged a few less highly educated readers who would turn to them for these and would not find the more complicated narrative structure of Heliodorus or the Atticizing Greek of all three an obstacle to understanding. We must remember, however, that quite a high level of education must be assumed in a prospective reader of Atticizing Greek – an education acquired by studying classical texts in one’s youth and reinforced by encounters with these texts or with their imperial written or spoken imitators in adult life.” xiv

meaning or to change the alluding text’s meaning by linking the text to the alluded text. In several studies, the cognate adludo has suggested that the intention of an allusion is linked intrinsically to the playful. As a result, some have labelled an allusion exclusively as evidence for parody in a text.38 Other modern studies of emulation have instead attributed the intention of an allusion to the context established both by the author to whom the new text alludes and the alluding author, not only as a parody, but also as an imitation or as a transformation of the original in some other way.39 The role of interpreting Homeric allusions in the novel, therefore, depends upon the contexts provided by Heliodorus and the contexts which he imports from Homer.40

In response to the extant scholarship on allusions, particularly regarding ancient literature, I add that the markers of an allusion may be verbal, yet it also may pertain to the organization of narrative. Considering both ancient and modern scholarship, I define an allusion as a process that is marked by either quoted or paraphrased vocabulary or by the organization of text within a recognizable structure to indicate a connection between two or more literary passages or texts. Moreover, the purpose of the allusion is in part dependent on the context established either by the alluding text, but the two core ideas of allusions that survive from antiquity emphasize emulation as an invitation to compare the alluding text to the alluded text either to test the reader’s interpretive skill or to display a desire for similarity. In the investigation of this project, I will keep these

38 Margaret Doody, The True Story of the Novel, (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1996), 144. “But an element of the parodic in the mocking sense is certainly often – if not always – present in literary allusion.”; Graham Allen, Intertextuality: The New Critical Idiom, (New York: Routledge, 2011), 113. “Jenny argues, clarifying Genette’s distinctions, can, at one and the same time, have their intertextual determinants directed towards a specific work (hypotext) or towards a model of a kind of textuality such as parody or montage, à la Genette’s architextuality.”; Massimo Fusillo, “Il Testo Nel Testo: La Citazione Nel Romanzo Greco.” Materiali E Discussioni per L'analisi Dei Testi Classici, no. 25 (1990): 27-28. 39 Gérard Genette, Palimpsests: Literature in the Second Degree. Translated by Channa Newman and Claude Doubinsky. (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press, 1997), 394-400; Graham Allen, Intertextuality: The New Critical Idiom, (New York: Routledge, 2011), 108-114; Carmela Perri, “On Alluding,” Poetics 7 (1978): 291-292, quoted in Joseph Pucci, The Full-Knowing Reader: Allusion and the Power of the Reader in the Western Literary Tradition, (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1998), 17-18. “Allusion is a way of referring that takes into account and circumvents the problem of what we mean when we refer: allusion markers act like proper names in that they denote unique individuals (source texts), but they also tacitly specify the property(ies) belonging to the source text’s connotation relevant to the allusion’s meaning. In ordinary language reference, when we use a proper name, we cannot control the activation of its connotation; our audience, even while correctly extending the name, may apply some, or all, of the wrong attributes associated with the name for our use of it – unless we explicitly mention the relevant attributes.” 40 For a study that uses textual evidence to identify various contexts in Heliodorus’ novel, see Ken Dowden, “Serious Intentions.” The Classical Quarterly 46, no.1 (1996): 267-285. xv

principles in mind and observe how Heliodorus uses Homer according to contextual principles of modern allusive theory.

Heliodorus’ Aethiopica presents a prime example of the versatility in allusive markers. In his very narrative, he openly plays with the idea of allusion to a text or of a text visiting another. When Calasiris tells Cnemon that he believes his dreams of the gods was in fact an actual visit of the gods, he explains his certainty with a metaphorical commentary of Poseidon’s descent into the Greek ranks (Il. 13.71-72). Homer, says Calasiris, “hints” (αἰνίττεσθαι) at the god’s presence, and the explanation given by the priest might just be a “hint” by Heliodorus that an allusion is a form of riddle that needs to be first perceived then decoded by the reader, and that it is one of the keys to reading his novel.41

The structural relationship to Homer’s Odyssey has been underscored by multiple scholars in different ways. Heliodorus’ textual use of Homer further enhances the allusive links already established by the organization of the text, so much so that the repetition in the borrowing of Homeric formulae often leads to several instances in the Aethiopica, where one allusion is simultaneously tied to several passages of Homer or one Homeric passage is tied to several alluding scenes in the Aethiopica. In this light, this thesis dissertation will show that the Homeric allusions in the Aethiopica, and more specifically to the Odyssey, are even more numerous and much deeper than what is understood at present. Indeed, Heliodorus depicts characters performing Homeric acts in comparable spaces to those of the Odyssey. These allusions, however, go beyond the trope of the novel and build, throughout the Aethiopica, a reflection on literature. The purpose of this thesis will be to identify how Heliodorus emulates Homer and how these emulations form a metaliterary commentary on the changing heroic figure.

To approach the allusions in the Aethiopica and the reason for Heliodorus’ use of literary language, I will primarily use textual analysis to identify the allusive markers of Heliodorus’ novel and map how they are organized into a coherent pattern. In my first chapter, I will identify the structure of the Aethiopica as a consistent marker to the Odyssey that establishes a dialogue by inviting an Odyssean context into any given scene within the novel. While the context of a scene in the Aethiopica is at first glance modelled on the Odyssey, Heliodorus dresses the scene in

41 On the masked nature of the allusion, that was encouraged by virtue of its indirect or veiled portrayal of external reference. René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 8-9, 231-232. xvi

vocabulary that links it to circumstances in the Iliad. Thus, Heliodorus generates allusions to the Odyssey within the Aethiopica’s distinctly novelistic plot using the text of the Iliad. In the second chapter, I explore literary elements such as the similarities to Homeric literature in the action of characters and the spaces in which they conduct these actions within the Aethiopica that build the novel’s structure to develop vivid allusive episodes that follow the same order as those in the Odyssey. In my final chapter, I analyze the elements of Heliodorus’ novel that produce a portrayal of Odysseus’ actions and traits distributed in the three main characters of the Aethiopica, Calasiris, Theagenes and Charicleia. I also argue that the markers of these characters reproduce a nekyia- type scene as a ritual of transference from Heracles to Calasiris, to Charicleia and Theagenes, that poses the novel’s characters as a new iteration of the epic hero. Unlike previous analyses that identify the nekyia as a confirmation that the novel replaced the role of epic poetry in society, I suggest that Heliodorus as a later author integrates Homeric material, which was already a practice applied to earlier literature, to portray his novel specifically as a continuation of the legacy established in Homer. While the textual allusions in the Aethiopica often link the novel to the Odyssey indirectly, they dress these scenes in vocabulary that directly compare them to circumstances in the Iliad. Thus, Heliodorus generates allusions to the Odyssey within the Aethiopica’s distinctly novelistic plot using the text of the Iliad.

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Chapter 1

The Structural Markers of the Aethiopica

Despite the lack of cohesion in the definitions of ancient and modern allusions, the similarities between the Odyssey and the Aethiopica indicate Heliodorus’ clear desire to emulate Homer. Unlike Chariton, who marks allusions to Homer with many lines of Homeric vocabulary,1 Heliodorus alludes to Homer primarily by tailoring his narrative structure to the unique structure of the Odyssey. The reproduction of the Odyssey’s structure remains a direct and consistent correlation to the text, linking each scene in the novel to its Odyssean counterpart. C.W. Keyes’ early work on the structure of the novel argues that the entire novel’s structure reforms the structure of the Odyssey in prose, which was widely accepted and expanded upon by later studies.2 Even though more recent scholarship has confirmed the structural similarities between the novel and Homer’s texts to be a valid interpretation,3 more voices gravitated towards the narrative attributes of the Aethiopica separately from Homer.4 Other studies prefer to analyze the importation of Homeric themes,5 the adaptation of Homeric ideas,6 and the portrayal of identity in the Aethiopica to understand Heliodorus’ literary project in more detail.7 Following these predecessors, this study

1 J. R. Morgan, “Intertextuality,” The Cambridge Companion to the Greek and Roman Novel, ed. Tim Whitmarsh. (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 219. See also, Consuelo Ruiz-Montero, “The Rise of the Greek Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 54. 2 Clinton Walker Keyes, “The Structure of Heliodorus’ “Aethiopica”,” Studies in Philology 19, no.1 (1922): 44. Tim Whitmarsh, “The Writes of Passage: Cultural Initiation in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Constructing Identities in Late Antiquity, ed. Richard Miles, (London: Routledge, 1999), 21-22. See also Victor Hefti, “Zur Erzählungstechnik in Heliodors Aethiopica,” (PhD diss., Universität Basel, 1950), 98-103. 3 Massimo Fusillo, “Textual Patterns and Narrative Situations in the Greek Novel,” Groningen Colloquia on the Novel: Volume I, (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1988), 21. “The structuring of the novel is a clear homage to the Odyssey: especially for the beginning in medias res (specific in itself not only to the Odyssey but also to the Iliad: it becomes a rule in the theories from Aristotle to Horace), for the reversal of the temporal sequence and for the gradual retrievals of the initial phase through a series of stories in the story.”; Giuseppe Zanetto, “Greek Novel and Archaic Greek Literature,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 406-408. 4 Marília Futre-Pinheiro, “Calasiris’ Story in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Groningen Colloquia on the Novel: Volume IV, (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1991), 69-83; J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 286-350; Jonas Grethlein, “Minding the Middle in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica: False Closure, Triangular Foils and Self-Reflection,” The Classical Quarterly 66, no.1 (2016): 316-335. J. R. Morgan, “The Story of Knemon in Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 259-285. 5 Silvia Montiglio, “‘His eyes stood as though of horn and steel’: Odysseus’ Fortitude and Moral Ideas in the Greek Novels,” The Construction of the Real and the Ideal in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 17, ed. Stelios Panayotakis and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2013), 147-159. 6 Margaret Doody, The True Story of the Novel, (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1996), 288-299. 7 Ken Dowden, “Serious Intentions.” The Classical Quarterly 46, no.1 (1996): 267-285; Tim Whitmarsh, “The Writes of Passage: Cultural Initiation in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Constructing Identities in Late Antiquity, ed. Richard Miles, 1

goes beyond previous estimations and argues that the structure of Heliodorus’ novel is much more Homeric in both its text and its formulation of narrative events. Heliodorus’ emulation of Homer’s structure animates a new story using the same fundamental elements of the Odyssey. To approach this subject, I will examine the stylistic qualities of the novel that are also identifiable in the Odyssey and which define the distinct structural designs of both texts. As the changes in narrative voices define the Odyssey’s embedded and circular narrative, I will closely examine the shifts in control between narrators and how their narratives resemble the Odyssean counterparts, and with which elements they match in characterization, chronology, and the distribution of order and duration.

1.1 Homeric Strategies of Narration

The feature that differentiates the Aethiopica from all other ancient novels, and incidentally renders the text so Homeric, is the organization of the episodes within the novel. Heliodorus frames the events of his fabula around the changes in narrative voice,8 using the direct speech of characters to embed narratives within the overall text.9 Just as the Odyssey inserts narrations using direct speech, the Aethiopica portrays narratives that interrupt the progression of the primary narrative voice on two occasions within the text.10 The first secondary narration,11 voiced by Cnemon in three sections, presents a reflection of the main plotline in a simple retelling of his travels from

(London: Routledge, 1999), 16-40. Baumbach argues that the Homeric allusions in the character’s dialogue display a performance of Greek identity. Although he only discusses Chariton’s novel, his argument is applicable to the presence of Homeric allusions in the dialogue of any ancient Greek novel. Manuel Baumbach, “Paideia and the Function of Homeric Quotations in Chariton' s Callirhoe,” The Struggle for Identity: Greeks and their Past in the First Century BCE, ed. Thomas A. Schmitz, (Stuttgart: Steiner, 2011), 253-271. 8 René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 23. “Fabula stands for a reconstruction, in chronological order, of the events that are narrated, irrespective of their relevant position in the text.” 9 Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004). “The primary narrator may decide to embed another narrative into his narrative, either doing the narrating himself (Marcel recalling the story of Un amour de Swann in Marcel Proust’s A la recherche du temps perdu) or turning one of the characters into a secondary narrator (Odysseus’ Apologue).” 10 Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 2. “[The] narrator who recounts the main story and whose voice is usually the first we hear when the story begins, is the primary narrator.” 11 Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 2. “This primary narrator may hand over the presentation of events to a character who recounts a story in direct speech, in which case we speak of a secondary narrator. When this character in turn embeds another narrative in his own narrative, we are dealing with a tertiary narrator, and so on.” 2

Athens just after the in medias res opening scene transitions into the setting of the bandit camp.12 After the story transitions from the bandit camp to Chemmis, Heliodorus places the following secondary narration voiced by Calasiris shortly after Cnemon’s narrative ends. This narration lasts until the midpoint of the novel, depicting the circumstances that led the main characters into the in medias res opening scene.13 After the halfway point, the Aethiopica resumes, using the primary voice to continue and conclude the text.14 Heliodorus uses two characters to narrate two separate embedded narratives, and as such establishes the same structural reconstruction of the Odyssey. Heliodorus also places the embedded narratives in the same order and duration as the character accounts in Homer’s second epic. Even though the Aethiopica conveys its contents in ten books to the Odyssey’s twenty-four, the durations of these embedded narrations are still comparable. Most obviously, Calasiris’ narrative takes up about two books of the text,15 doubling the amount of space present in Cnemon’s narrative.16 This comparative design echoes Odysseus’ narration, which lasts for four books, doubling the length of Telemachus’ journeys to Pylos and Lacedaemon.17 Moreover, the novel depicts Cnemon’s storyline as shorter and fragmented compared to Calasiris’ longer narrative. In this section, I will explore the organization of the Aethiopica, based on the novel’s conscientious usage of chronological markers that are instantly recognizable as Homeric in both form and function.

1.1.1 In Medias Res

The Aethiopica displays a link between the opening in medias res sequence followed by embedded narratives or analepses as the first Homeric attribute of the text. As originally coined by Horace to describe how Homer commences his two epic poems,18 in medias res begins an opening scene in the middle of an event. This strategy is used in both the Iliad and the Odyssey, although the literary device is portrayed differently in each epic text. The Iliad’s opening scene possesses a

12 Heliod., Aeth., 1.9-1.14, 1.14-1.18, 2.8-2.10. 13 Heliod., Aeth., 2.24-5.1, 5.17-5.33. 14 Heliod., Aeth., 5.33-10.41. 15 Heliod., Aeth., 2.24-5.1, 5.17-5.33. I use approximate terms here as Heliodorus begins Calasiris’ narrative in the middle of Book 2 and is subsequently interrupted no fewer than eleven times by Cnemon. See Cnemon’s interruptions of Calasiris in the following passages: Heliod., Aeth., 2.25.4, 2.26.3, 2.32.3, 3.1.2-3, 3.2.2, 3.4.2-3, 3.4.6-3.5.1, 3.12.2- 3.15.1, 4.3.3-4.4.3, 5.1.3-5.17.2, and 5.17.4. These interruptions are mentioned by J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 287, 331. 16 Heliod., Aeth., 2.24-5.1, 5.17-5.33 17 Hom., Od, 9.1-12.450. 18 Hor., Ars P.,147-152. 3

directly causal relationship to the end of the narrative. Since Chryses called upon Apollo to compel Agamemnon to return his daughter,19 Agamemnon kidnapped Briseis from Achilles,20 leading to his withdrawal from battle, the subsequent death of Patroclus and the final battle between Achilles and Hector.21 While two embedded narratives of Calchas and Nestor occur in the Iliad,22 at no point do these characters describe events that occur within the fabula out of chronological order. Rather, the description of Apollo provides an aetiology of the plague affecting the Greeks at the beginning of the epic and of anecdotal events that precede the textual material.23 The beginning of the Odyssey, on the other hand, leads to the ending using a different approach. The epic poem opens not in the middle of a physical conflict, but rather in the literal middle of the story, as Odysseus has already completed a significant amount of travelling in an attempt to return home before the story has begun.

The Aethiopica opens in medias res with a personification of day in the smile of the minor goddess, Hemera. While many scenes in the Iliad and the Odyssey begin with a depiction of the morning, Telemachus’ arrival at Pylos, the home of Nestor, remains the only book in the Odyssey

19 Hom., Il. 1.9-21. 20 Hom., Il. 1. 345-350. 21 Hom., Il. 22.248-389. 22 Keith Dickson, “Kalkhas And Nestor: Two Narrative Strategies In "Iliad" 1,” Arethusa 25, no. 3, (1992): 328-329. See 329: “They are characters to whom is given the function of steering the narrative of the tale in one direction or another at moments of marked crisis. Their information and advice highlight mutually exclusive trajectories along which the ensuing narrative can proceed—paths ostensibly chosen by the characters who either embrace or reject their advice—though of course always towards an end predetermined by the poet himself and the tradition within which he is working.” 23 For Calchas, see Hom., Il., 1.93-100; Keith Dickson, Keith Dickson, “Kalkhas And Nestor: Two Narrative Strategies In "Iliad" 1,” Arethusa 25, no. 3, (1992): 333. “Apollo is of course not an invention of the narrator; his role as the divine guarantor of prophecy is also a tenet of the culture within which the poem itself is performed. The fact that Kalkhas' aetiology of the plague matches what is earlier told by the narrator thus has the effect of confirming the latter's account as well, retrospectively endorsing it through an appeal to the audience's willingness to believe in a god who inspires true seercraft—and who, in Greek society, also embodies the source of the Muses' own truthfulness.”; For Nestor, see Keith Dickson, “Kalkhas And Nestor: Two Narrative Strategies In "Iliad" 1,” Arethusa 25, no. 3, (1992): 341-342. “The tales the old man tells in the Iliad—of war against hill-beasts (1.262-72), battle between the Pylians and Arkadians (7.132-56), raids on Elis (11.670-762), the recruitment of Akhilleus (11.765-90), competition at the ancient funeral games of Amarynkeus (23.629-43)—are in substance the same as Homer's longer tale of the Akhaians at Troy, with which they also share the same moral horizon, both shaped by the values of a warrior elite. They differ from the principal narrator's tales in two important respects. First, Nestor's tales are autobiographical, and thus embody an explicit first-person perspective that, except in invocation of the Muses and occasional apostrophes in the frame narrative, is absent from those of the principal storyteller. The high frequency of autocitation in his speeches is in fact what makes Nestor the bard of his own story, an aut-aoidos or "self-singer." Second, the mimesis of his words is generally always restricted to embedded diegesis: unlike the principal narrator, Nestor only rarely incorporates the representation of direct speech (mimesis) in his own tales, whereas mimesis amounts to some 45% of the text of the Iliad itself.” 4

that explicitly refers to the sun rising into the sky.24 All other books in Homer’s two epics explicitly refer to Eos to describe the morning.25 Furthermore, Heliodorus expresses his knowledge of the Eos epithet by placing it later in the text.26 Therefore, I propose that one may interpret the invocation of a smiling Hemera to distance his text from the multiple passages that describe Eos in favour of one specific passage. As a result, Heliodorus invites the reader into the beginning of Telemachus’ journey by portraying Hemera to describe the morning instead of Eos. The second invocation of Homer in this moment resembles Telemachus’ arrival at Lacedaemon at the beginning of the fourth book of the Odyssey. The Aethiopica specifically describes the hillside, over which the sun rises in order to portray the bandits at the top of the hill gazing down at the scene of carnage on the beach below.27 At the beginning of the fourth book of the Odyssey, Homer evokes the uneven, coiling terrain of Lacedaemon.28 Therefore, the concept of characters standing at the top of the hill looking down onto a spectacle is emulated in a subtle and concise manner, only recognizable due to the association of the other allusion placed in the same space. Instead of the luxurious sight of Lacedaemon, however, the reader of the Aethiopica is confronted with a perverted display of carnage among evidence of a banquet.

Since the first secondary narrative breaks into several accounts, followed by a longer more cohesive story, the novel’s structure reframes that of the shorter embedded narrations of Nestor, Helen, and Menelaus, followed by the longer narrative of Odysseus. Since Heliodorus and Homer devise narratives out of chronological order, both texts establish suspense in favor of surprise as their chosen method of portrayal. While suspense is a technique that relies on the anticipation of a specific end result, a surprise occurs with no prior indication, and therefore portrays an event that the reader cannot anticipate.29 The Odyssey uses suspense by delaying any clarification for results that are already introduced at the beginning of the text.30 Similarly, the interruption of Cnemon’s

24 Hom., Od. 3.1. “Ἠέλιος δ᾽ ἀνόρουσε…” 25 Hom., Il, 8.1, 11.1, 19.1; Od. 2.1, 5.1, 8.1, 12.1, 17.1. All other book beginnings provide a brief summary explaining the current predicament of the focal character, transitioning the previous book to the current. 26 Heliod., Aeth., 3.4. This phrase is spoken by Calasiris: “Ἦμος δ´ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος ἠώς - Ὅμηρος ἂν εἶπεν” 27 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1 “Ἡμέρας ἄρτι διαγελώσης καὶ ἡλίου τὰς ἀκρωρείας καταυγάζοντος, ἄνδρες ἐν ὅπλοις λῃστρικοῖς ὄρους ὑπερκύψαντες, ὃ δὴ κατ ‘ἐκβολὰς τοῦ Νείλου καὶ στόμα τὸ καλούμενον Ἡρακλεωτικὸν ὑπερτείνει…” 28 Hom., Od. 4.1-2. “οἱ δ᾽ ἷξον κοίλην Λακεδαίμονα κητώεσσαν, / πρὸς δ᾽ ἄρα δώματ᾽ ἔλων Μενελάου κυδαλίμοιο.” 29 J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 287-288. 30 Irene de Jong, A Narratological Commentary on the Odyssey, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 477; Rabel, Robert J. “Interruption in the Odyssey.” Colby Quarterly 38, no.1, (2002): 85; B. Fenik, Studies in the Odyssey: Hermes Einzelschriften 30, (Wiesbaden: F. Steiner, 1974), 6-9. 5

narrative slows the catharsis achieved at the end of Calasiris’ narrative by distracting the trajectory of the opening scene with new information.31 Thus, it is not only Calasiris’ narration that alludes to the Odyssey, but the combination of Calasiris and Cnemon together that implies the Odyssean structure. Since both Cnemon and Calasiris’ narratives reproduce the embedded narrations of the Odyssey, the primary narrator inevitably reproduces the format of the primary narrator in the epic. By surrounding the character narrations, bracketing the two stories and providing a context in this way, Heliodorus allows these narratives to be relayed to secondary narratees. Despite the number of books used to segregate the Aethiopica differing from that of the Odyssey, the changes between narrators are comparable and take up the same amount of relative space. Accordingly, the duration of primary and secondary narratives contributes to the similarities between the Odyssey and the Aethiopica.

The compatibility of narrative duration in the novel relies on the order of similar episodes to produce the same structure as the Odyssey. Homer’s epic poem begins with a primary perspective in medias res, which is then interrupted by multiple internal accounts,32 separated by the primary perspective. The entire Telemachy plays a distractive role in the larger epic as a whole, according to de Jong’s definition,33 because the narrative postpones any explanation that provides further context to the opening scene,34 apart from the small details provided in the proem and in the conversation led by Zeus.35 The largest secondary narrative, voiced by Odysseus in the court of Alcinous, is placed as the last section of the first half of the text and explains the circumstances of Odysseus’ journey.36 Ending precisely at the midpoint of the epic,37 Odysseus’ narrative hands

31 J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 287-288. For an analysis on the antithetical nature of Cnemon’s narrative from the main plot, see J. R. Morgan, “The Story of Knemon in Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 259- 285. 32 Hom., Od. 3.100-4.610 33 Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 10. “[Distractive]: (when there is no relationship at all, but the embedded narrative is told to entertain, as is often the case in frame-narratives like the Canterbury Tales or Decamerone).”; See also, J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 300. “The relation of Knemon's tale to the major plot is much more than mere retardation or postponement—important as that is[.]” 34 Hom., Od. 3.1-4.847. 35 Hom., Od. 1.1-104. 36 Hom., Od. 9.1-12.450. 37 Hom., Od. 12.450. See also, Clinton Walker Keyes, “The Structure of Heliodorus’ “Aethiopica”,” Studies in Philology 19, no.1 (1922): 44. “The point of beginning is " caught up, with " in Calasiris' narrative at the end of Book 6

the control back to the primary voice to continue the second half of the Odyssey.38 The second half of the narrative lands Odysseus back on Ithaca and instead focuses on how he can take his household back from the occupation of the suitors. The placement of the several character narrations in the first half of the text, which end precisely at the midpoint, splits the text into two whole pieces that serve different purposes. The first half of the text plunges the epic poem into a situation that is half-explained and thus, half the text relies on the explanation of the opening scene. The second half of the Odyssey focuses instead on the original goal of the main protagonist, drawing specifically on the return and the obstacles that prevent the return. Homer divides the Odyssey into two distinct sections, which are divided equally by the change in narrative voice coinciding with the shift in Odysseus’ journey in his return to civilized Greek society.

Heliodorus marks allusive connectors to the structure of the Odyssey in his application of the same division by constructing the same effects in the narrative voice and dividing the characters’ journey. Following the in medias res introduction, expressed by the primary narrator,39 the text shifts to accommodate a secondary interior narration voiced by Cnemon.40 Cnemon’s story interrupts the unexplained circumstances that brought Charicleia and Theagenes to the Egyptian beach. While Cnemon tells his own story, most of his information comes from two other tertiary figures,41 which fragment his story into three sections. This strategy recalls the way in which Nestor told Telemachus information he did not experience himself, but rather discovered since his return,42 although the overall effect seems to synthesize the multiple Odyssean accounts into one

V, exactly the middle point of the work. After that the narrative proceeds almost entirely in chronological order. All this is obviously a careful imitation of the Odyssey, for Odysseus.” 38 Hom., Od, 13.1-24.548. 39 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1-1.3. Tomas Hägg, The Novel in Antiquity, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 110. “Heliodorus absolutely excels in imitation of Homer. The in-medias-res technique is consciously adopted, and developed with ingenuity.”; See also, Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 1-2. “The first thing to ask oneself is whether or not the narrator is a character in his own story: if he is, we speak of an internal narrator, if not, we speak of an external narrator. Internal narrators used to be called first-person narrators, but this is a less fortunate term, since external narrators can also refer to themselves as ‘I’, as witness, e.g., the ‘tell me, Muse, of the man’ of the Odyssey’s external narrator. In fact, all narratives are in principle recounted by a narrating subject— even if this narrating ‘I’ nowhere refers to himself—so that this is not a watertight criterion for distinguishing narrators.” 40 Heliod., Aeth., 1.9. 41 Heliod., Aeth., 1.14-1.18, 2.8-2.10. 42 Hom., Od. 3.184-187. “ὣς ἦλθον, φίλε τέκνον, ἀπευθής, οὐδέ τι οἶδα/ κείνων, οἵ τ᾽ ἐσάωθεν Ἀχαιῶν οἵ τ᾽ ἀπόλοντο. / ὅσσα δ᾽ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισι/ πεύθομαι, ἣ θέμις ἐστί, δαήσεαι, κοὐδέ σε δεύσω.” 7

voice.43 Furthermore, Cnemon’s lover, Thisbe, provides her own perspective on a small tablet,44 adding a fourth section to Cnemon’s narrative. Then, after a brief interlude voiced by the primary narrator,45 the second character narration of Calasiris begins. Calasiris introduces the identities of Charicleia and Theagenes,46 and ends with a description of circumstances that lead to the opening scene.47 After Calasiris’ story, the second half of the novel returns to the primary narrator.48 Thus, the content of Calasiris’ story possesses the same connection to the in medias res as Odysseus’ narration to the Phaeacians. By placing the embedded narrations in the first half of the text and portraying the second half of the text in the primary voice, the final design element of the Odyssey is recognizable as Homer splits his text in precisely the same way. Thus, the succession of presented events in the Aethiopica through the scope of the three main characters has been modelled by the boundaries of the Odyssey, which arranges the information in the same specific way.

1.2 Narrative Voices

Heliodorus’ Aethiopica retains the layers of narrative voices and reproduces the interactions between narrators in Homer’s Odyssey. These narrative voices interrupt a chronological display of the text’s fabula by presenting parts of the protagonists’ voyage in direct speech.49 In particular, Heliodorus depicts this beginning with a voice that possesses the same limitations as Homer. By using an anonymous and distant narrator to open the novel in medias res,50 Heliodorus engages both with the conventions of the other extant novels and the Odyssey.51

43 I shall explain this point in “Part 3: Narrative Voices.” 44 Heliod., Aeth., 2.10. 45 Heliod., Aeth., 2.10-2.24. 46 Heliod., Aeth., 2.3-2.4. 47 Heliod., Aeth., 5.29-33. 48 Heliod., Aeth., 5.33-10.41. 49 René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 23. “Fabula stands for a reconstruction, in chronological order, of the events that are narrated, irrespective of their relevant position in the text.”; Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 2. “This primary narrator may hand over the presentation of events to a character who recounts a story in direct speech, in which case we speak of a secondary narrator.” 50 Hor., Ars P., 147-148. 51 J. R. Morgan, “Heliodorus,” Time in Ancient Greek Literature, ed. Irene J. F. de Jong and René Nünlist, (Leiden: Brill, 2007), 484. “The novel is famous for beginning in medias res, which results in the most radical separation of fabula and story to be found in any of the Greek novels. Not only are large and important parts of the fabula already in the past when the story begins, to be revealed later through lengthy external completing analepses, mostly actorial but occasionally narratorial; but events within the story itself are often presented anachronically.”; Bruno Currie, “The Iliad, the Odyssey, and Narratological Intertextuality,” Symbolae Osloenses 93, no. 1 (2019): 159. “I start with a 8

Throughout the text, a primary narrative voice yields control to embedded secondary narrators, who in turn relinquish narrative power to tertiary and quaternary narrators.52 The resulting effect reproduces the structural similarities between the Aethiopica and the Odyssey, not only due to the changes of voice in and of itself, but also due to the perpetuated similarities of narrating ability and focus. While all these embedded narrators yield to Homeric ideas and models,53 Calasiris’ narration performs the most obvious reinterpretation of Odysseus’ embedded narration in the Odyssey by explaining the circumstances leading to the opening scene,54 while clarifying the identity of the main protagonists in the process.55 These narrators have been arranged in the same format, controlled by similar limitations. I will be surveying how Heliodorus emphasizes the Homeric structure by properties these voices possess to communicate narrative information, the roles allotted to them as narrators and narratees, and how these roles affect the voices of the characters.

1.2.1 The Anonymous Primary Narrator

Heliodorus begins his novel with a narrative voice that controls the majority of the text and, as the primary narrator, controls most of the first half of the text and the entirety of the second

coarse-grained and trite observation: the narratives of both the Iliad and the Odyssey plunge their narratees in medias res, respectively carving out a story of 51 and 41 days from an underlying traditional mythological fabula of 10 and 20 years, a story that nevertheless reverberates with the whole underlying mythological fabula.”; Richard Hunter, “Homer and Greek Literature,” The Cambridge Companion to Homer, ed. Robert Fowler, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 251. 52 Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 2. “[The] narrator who recounts the main story and whose voice is usually the first we hear when the story begins, is the primary narrator. This primary narrator may hand over the presentation of events to a character who recounts a story in direct speech, in which case we speak of a secondary narrator. When this character in turn embeds another narrative in his own narrative, we are dealing with a tertiary narrator, and so on.” 53 I specifically refer to the role of Cnemon’s narration here, which I shall elaborate later in this chapter. 54 Homer begins by describing the predicament of Odysseus at the beginning of the poem, onto which Odysseus returns at the end of his narrative. See Hom. Od. 1.13-15, 84-87. “τὸν δ᾽ οἶον νόστου κεχρημένον ἠδὲ γυναικὸς/ νύμφη πότνι᾽ ἔρυκε Καλυψὼ δῖα θεάων/ ἐν σπέσσι γλαφυροῖσι, λιλαιομένη πόσιν εἶναι... Ἑρμείαν μὲν ἔπειτα διάκτορον ἀργεϊφόντην/ νῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην ὀτρύνομεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα/ νύμφῃ ἐυπλοκάμῳ εἴπῃ νημερτέα βουλήν, / νόστον Ὀδυσσῆος ταλασίφρονος.”; See 12.447-453. “ἔνθεν δ᾽ ἐννῆμαρ φερόμην, δεκάτῃ δέ με νυκτὶ/ νῆσον ἐς Ὠγυγίην πέλασαν θεοί, ἔνθα Καλυψὼ/ ναίει ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα, / ἥ μ᾽ ἐφίλει τ᾽ ἐκόμει τε. τί τοι τάδε μυθολογεύω;/ ἤδη γάρ τοι χθιζὸς ἐμυθεόμην ἐνὶ οἴκῳ/ σοί τε καὶ ἰφθίμῃ ἀλόχῳ: ἐχθρὸν δέ μοί ἐστιν/ αὖτις ἀριζήλως εἰρημένα μυθολογεύειν.” J. R. Morgan, “Heliodorus,” Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 525. “Calasiris relates events subsequent to the protagonists’ departure from Delphi culminating with the scene with which the primary narrative began (5.17.1–33.3).” 55 J. R. Morgan, “Heliodorus,” Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 524. “As internal narrator, Calasiris recounts his discovery of the heroine’s identity at Delphi.” 9

half.56 Just as Homer presents his epics with a voice entirely separated from the events, Heliodorus’ primary narrator shares an external portrayal of narrative events through the manipulation of temporal language and the accessibility of character internal monologues. By focussing on the thoughts and feelings of characters, Heliodorus presents narrative information through the experiences of others, rather than stating the primary narrators' own opinions of the events. The neutrality of the primary perspective renders the events controlled by this voice as trustworthy, as connotation is accessed through the character’s actions, interactions, and thoughts.57 This neutral atmosphere juxtaposes the atmosphere of the other two narrations, which are voiced by characters that play specific roles in the text.58 By virtue of their limited perspectives and possible ulterior motives as characters, these narrations contrast with the primary voice. Since the primary speaker possesses no body and plays no active role in the story, but rather invites the words of others to connote and denote any event with a deeper significance,59 Heliodorus cultivates a voice devoid of the disparities readily available in the other voices by virtue of either their limitations or their dissimulation of relayed events.

1.2.2 Calasiris

Unlike the unbiased perspective offered by the primary narrator, Calasiris presents a distinctly limited presentation of events, as all the information is filtered through his own empirical perspective. Heliodorus’ depiction of Calasiris’ narrative suggests an allusion to Odysseus’ narrative in the Odyssey both due to the location of his narrative within his story and the cunning that he displays throughout his account. His narrative voice distinguishes the Aethiopica from the

56 J. R. Morgan, “Heliodorus,” Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 523. “The primary narrator is anonymous and external. The date and setting of the act of narration remain unspecified, and the primary narratee is directly addressed only once in the second person (5.13.4).”; J. R. Morgan, “History, Romance and Realism in the Aithiopika of Heliodoros,” Classical Antiquity 1, no. 2 (1982): 223. “There are a number of obvious formal similarities between the novel and historiography: both are lengthy narratives in prose, told in the past tense and generally in the third person, although an autobiographical, first-person mode is available to both.” 57 J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 293. 58 Therefore, these narrators meet de Jong’s definition of an internal narrator. Irene de Jong, introduction to Narrators, Narratees, and Narratives in Ancient Greek Literature: Studies in Ancient Greek Narrative, Volume One, ed. Irene de Jong, René Nünlist, and Angus Bowie, (Leiden: Brill, 2004), 1-2. 59 This information, which may only be analyzed in order to be derived and understood, has been described as a documentary style of narration. J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 288, 292. 10

other ancient novels,60 as his narration performs the same role as Odysseus’ narrative voice in the Odyssey.61 Not only does Calasiris draw parallels frequently between himself and Odysseus using language from the Odyssey,62 but his narration also performs two key roles to motivate the plots that are distinctly Homeric in presentation. The first role is his provision of answers to the enigma presented by the in medias res introduction, while the second is the reporting of a vision that prophesies the nature of his wanderings. While Calasiris resolves one aspect of the novel, he also sets up the conflicts for the second half of the text. Since Heliodorus presents Calasiris’ narratives in the second quarter of the first half of the novel, his embedded narrative occupies the same comparable space as Odysseus’ narrative. In the same space, Heliodorus displays Odysseus’ narrative in the two central functioning roles, all the while emulating the character of Odysseus through Calasiris’ portrayal as a narrator.

The interaction between Calasiris’ narrative and the in medias res scene of the beginning acts as the clearest marker to the Odyssey because both Calasiris and Odysseus contextualize the unexplained attributes of their respective beginnings. Since Calasiris’ narration clarifies the mysteries established by the in medias res scene of the beginning, Heliodorus ties the voice of Calasiris to that of Odysseus’ report of his travels to the Phaeacians.63 Through Odysseus’ narrative to Alcinous’ court, Homer identifies the reason for his exile, the cause of Poseidon and Helios’ wrath,64 and his dramatic change of state from leader of a fleet in Troy to solitary survivor. The end of Calasiris’ narrative contextualizes the unexplained information provided by the beginning.65 Calasiris’ narrative performs another narratological function: an understanding of

60 Marília Futre-Pinheiro, “Calasiris’ Story in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Groningen Colloquia on the Novel: Volume IV, (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1991), 81. 61 See Tim Whitmarsh, “The Writes of Passage: Cultural Initiation in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Constructing Identities in Late Antiquity, ed. Richard Miles, (London: Routledge, 1999), 16. 62 Heliod., Aeth., 2.21-25. Not only does Calasiris quote Odysseus before he begins his narrative, but he also begins exactly as Odysseus begins his, with the phrase: “Ἰλιόθεν με φέρεις.” See also, Silvia Montiglio, “‘His eyes stood as though of horn and steel’: Odysseus’ Fortitude and Moral Ideas in the Greek Novels,” The Construction of the Real and the Ideal in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 17, ed. Stelios Panayotakis and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2013), 148. “Calasiris from the start intimates that the narrative of his adventures will include as much wandering and suffering as that of Odysseus.”; See also Thomas Paulsen, Inszenierung des Schicksals: Tragödie und Komödie im Roman des Heliodor, (Berlin: Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 1992), 143-145. 63 Hom., Od. 9.1-12.453. 64 Poseidon and Helios’ wrath are both explained in the speech of Tiresias. See, Hom., Od. 11.100-137. 65 Jonas Grethlein, “Minding the Middle in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica: False Closure, Triangular Foils and Self- Reflection,” The Classical Quarterly 66, no.1 (2016): 318. 11

Charicleia and Theagenes’ identities and how the protagonists will encounter their endings.66 The fifth book of the novel divides Calasiris’ narrative into two parts, interrupted by the primary narrator introducing the plot of Theagenes’ absence.67 The first installment of his narrative describes how Calasiris met Charicleia and Theagenes. The second installment of his narrative presents significant information that confirms that Charicleia caused many of the deaths apparent in the opening scene. This explanation is greatly significant as it links the opening scene of the novel to Odyssey’s Mnesterophonia episode, which describes how Odysseus slew the suitors of Penelope at the end of the Odyssey.68 Calasiris’ narrative recontextualizes the presentation of the opening scene by drawing more links to the reinterpreted Mnesterophonia scene.69 Crucially, this parallel deliberately places an Odyssean scene out of order, but it does so by limiting the description of the scenes to accommodate the stylistic requirements of in medias res and the contextualization provided in an embedded narrative. Structurally, Heliodorus’ design follows the exact order of the structure of the Odyssey, despite the changes that alter the emulated details of the scene. Thus, Calasiris’ narrative retains the same role as Odysseus’ narrative in the Odyssey because of his narrative’s relationship to the opening scene of the Aethiopica.

In the novel, Heliodorus also ties Calasiris’ narrative to the presence of Odysseus in his role as an agent of narrative motivation. The Odyssey introduces a prophecy, which Odysseus obtains through a necromantic ritual, that motivates the plot by introducing an element of foreshadowing.70 Tiresias explains the implication of actions Odysseus and his crew had already committed and the

66 Marília Futre-Pinheiro, “Calasiris’ Story in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Groningen Colloquia on the Novel: Volume IV, (Groningen: Egbert Forsten, 1991), 77. 67 Heliod., Aeth., 5.2-5.17; esp. 5.11: “…Ἀλλ’ ὦ θύγατερ, ὦ Χαρίκλεια, Θεαγένην δὲ ποῦ κατέλιπες;” Ἀνωλόλυξε πρὸς τὴν ἐρώτησιν καὶ διαλιποῦσα μικρὸν “Αἰχμάλωτον” εἶπεν “ἄγει λαβὼν ὅστις ποτέ ἐστιν ὁ κἀμὲ τούτῳ παραδεδωκώς.” 68 Aldo Tagliabue, “Heliodorus’ Aethiopica and the Odyssean Mnesterophonia: An Intermedial Reading,” Transactions of the American Philological Association 145, no. 2 (2015): 446. For accounts on how the opening scene of the Aethiopica resembles the Mnesterophonia, see E. Feuillâtre, Études sur les Éthiopiques d’Héliodore: Contribution à la connaissance du roman grec, (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1966), 105; Mario Telò, “The Eagle's Gaze in the Opening of Heliodorus' Aethiopica,” American Journal of Philology 132, no. 4 (2011): 581-613; Aldo Tagliabue, “Heliodorus’ Aethiopica and the Odyssean Mnesterophonia: An Intermedial Reading,” Transactions of the American Philological Association 145, no. 2 (2015): 445-468. 69 Mario Telò, “The Eagle's Gaze in the Opening of Heliodorus' Aethiopica,” American Journal of Philology 132, no. 4 (2011): 586. See also, Aldo Tagliabue, “Heliodorus’ Aethiopica and the Odyssean Mnesterophonia: An Intermedial Reading,” Transactions of the American Philological Association 145, no. 2 (2015): 448-9. 70 Hom., Od. 11.20-151. 12

actions necessary to make their return. Consequently, Heliodorus defines clear goals for the protagonists to continue their journey home.

As Odysseus comes to Calasiris in this scene, rather than Calasiris traversing to the underworld to find Odysseus, scholars describe the scene as a nekyia type scene, rather than a katabasis type. While the Odyssean nature of Calasiris’ narrative is apparent in his very first words on the subject,71 the nekyia scene marks the most obvious allusion to the Odyssey, inspiring the reader to see the many other ways in which the novel alludes to Homer.72 The prophetic dream received by Calasiris, which foretells a proleptic account of the journey ahead of the three protagonists.73 Upon Calasiris, Charicleia, and Theagenes’ arrival on Zakynthos, Calasiris is visited by Odysseus in a dream.74 His presence is preceded by a series of Homeric quotations and paraphrases that refer the reader to Odysseus’ identifying traits, attributes, or paraphernalia he carries at some point, before confirming his identity. While Odysseus’ prophecy to Calasiris also introduces an element of animosity absent in Tiresias’ speech, this animosity replaces the role of Poseidon’s wrath in the Odyssey.75 Moreover, the fact that Odysseus delivers Calasiris’ prophecy legitimizes Calasiris’ narrative as the Odyssean narrator of the novel because Odysseus entrusts him with prophetic information regarding the wellbeing of Theagenes and Charicleia.76 Since his narrative ends at the heart of the text,77 Calasiris’ narration connects all the different stories of the novel together.

1.2.3 Cnemon

71 Heliod., Aeth., 2.21. “Ἰλιόθεν με φέρεις,”; See also: Silvia Montiglio, “‘His eyes stood as though of horn and steel’: Odysseus’ Fortitude and Moral Ideas in the Greek Novels,” The Construction of the Real and the Ideal in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 17, ed. Stelios Panayotakis and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2013), 148; Thomas Paulsen, Inszenierung des Schicksals: Tragödie und Komödie im Roman des Heliodor, (Berlin: Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 1992), 143. 72 Margaret Doody, The True Story of the Novel, (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1996), 146. 73 Clinton Walker Keyes, “The Structure of Heliodorus’ “Aethiopica”,” Studies in Philology 19, no.1 (1922): 43. 74 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22. The scene is analysed in detail in chapter in order to underscore Calasiris' Homeric traits. 75 Silvia Montiglio, “‘His eyes stood as though of horn and steel’: Odysseus’ Fortitude and Moral Ideas in the Greek Novels,” The Construction of the Real and the Ideal in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 17, ed. Stelios Panayotakis and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2013), 148. “By cursing Calasiris, Odysseus plays the role of the punishing god as the efficient motif that initiates Calasiris’ wanderings… Odysseus is Calasiris’ Poseidon, or, stripped of his mythic dress, a projection of the author himself.”; See also, Thomas Paulsen, Inszenierung des Schicksals: Tragödie und Komödie im Roman des Heliodor, (Berlin: Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 1992), 162. 76 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22. “τὴν κόρην δὲ ἣν ἄγεις παρὰ τῆς ἐμῆς γαμετῆς πρόσειπε, χαίρειν γὰρ αὐτῇ φησι διότι πάντων ἐπίπροσθεν ἄγει τὴν σωφροσύνην καὶ τέλος αὐτῇ δεξιὸν εὐαγγελίζεται.” See also, Silvia Montiglio, “‘His eyes stood as though of horn and steel’: Odysseus’ Fortitude and Moral Ideas in the Greek Novels,” The Construction of the Real and the Ideal in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 17, ed. Stelios Panayotakis and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2013), 148. 77 Margaret Doody, The True Story of the Novel, (New Brunswick: Rutgers University Press, 1996), 94. 13

In the same way that the other two voices emulate their Homeric counterparts, the story of Cnemon alludes to the narratives of Nestor, Menelaus, and Helen in the third and fourth books of the Odyssey. As with the other two voices, Cnemon’s account offers the same parallel to the main plot that these early Odyssean narrations present. Namely, the embedded narration diverts the novel into a mode of storytelling that conveys its contents in a deliberately different manner from those strategies used by the other two narrators.78 Accordingly, Cnemon’s account mirrors the conventions established in the main text because Nestor’s, Helen’s, and Menelaus’ narratives juxtapose structural characteristics against the main plot of the Odyssey, which in turn emphasize the differences of Odysseus’ later narration. Some of the characteristics I highlight here were posed initially by J. J. Winkler, whose paper closely examines how Cnemon’s narrative contributes to the main plot as more than simply a way to extend the suspense of the main plot of the novel.79 Winkler emphasizes the interaction between Cnemon and Calasiris’ accounts may occur only as a by-product of allusion and may, in fact, display Heliodorus’ mastery of emulation rather than of authorial invention. C. W. Keyes argued that Cnemon’s narration possessed similarities to Telemachus’ story more closely than Calasiris’ because the two Greeks characters bear a resemblance to one another due to the situations that lead Telemachus and Cnemon to wander.80 If Cnemon’s account resembles those of the Telemachy, Cnemon would be the receiver of the story he relays rather than the speaker in precisely the same way that Calasiris portrays Odysseus because he is the speaker that relays the second embedded diegesis. Cnemon’s narratives must be viewed in comparison to the roles of Menelaus, Nestor, and Helen, rather than that of Telemachus because the majority of Cnemon’s story comprises multiple tertiary accounts from his friends and the textual account of Thisbe. As Calasiris’ surrogate children, Charicleia and Theagenes’ listening roles ties their identities more closely to Telemachus, but their connection may only be understood

78 J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 299. “We may even say that the importance of Knemon’s novella lies principally in the fact that the powerful narrative intellect which we can see behind the opening tableau here enters a simpler persona and works within the narrower conventions of a naïve raconteur in order to make clear what kind of story the Aithiopika is not.” 79 J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 300. “The relation of Knemon’s tale to the major plot is much more than mere retardation or postponement – important as that is[.]” 80 Clinton Walker Keyes, “The Structure of Heliodorus’ “Aethiopica”,” Studies in Philology 19, no.1 (1922): 45. “Cnemon’s story can perhaps be said to take the place of that of Telemachus to a still greater degree. Here we have an account of the troubles at home and of the wanderings abroad of a young man who is to be closely associated with the chief characters later.” 14

in retrospect, after Calasiris acknowledges them as his children.81 Therefore, the understanding of Charicleia and Theagenes as Telemachus may not be accessible to a first time reader of the scene, unless the identification of Cnemon’s fragmented stories were first understood as the various stories told in the Telemachy. The purpose of this section will be to organize information which would tie this scene to the scenes of the Telemachy, preferably from the perspective of a first-time reader of the story, to underline the emulation of Nestor, Helen, and Menelaus’ narratives.

While the majority of Cnemon’s narrative is filtered through his perspective, this story is shared among the voices of others, from whom Cnemon receives news about his family. Cnemon introduces his narrative from information he experienced, followed by the supplementation of three others: Charias,82 Anticles,83 and Thisbe.84 In a similar fashion, the Odyssey portrays a series of narrations, imparted by Nestor,85 Menelaus,86 who relays two different anecdotes, and Helen.87 The four voices in the Aethiopica correspond to three voices in the Odyssey. As Menelaus relays two of these stories, however, the number of accounts remains compatible, each contributing new information and nuance to the same story. Since Cnemon receives the events in Athens in exile, he relays much of his narrative through the accounts of his friends. The absence of Cnemon’s presence in most of the depicted events in his story and his reliance on the accounts of others bears a clear resemblance to Nestor’s narrative. Since Nestor returns more quickly than his comrades, knowledge of Odysseus’ loss reaches him in the years after his return to Pylos, rather than during his own return from Troy.88 Thus, both Nestor and Cnemon refer to narrative information made available through second-hand sources. Despite this stylistic similarity, the content of Cnemon’s narrative bears a closer resemblance to Menelaus’ second narrative. Not only do Cnemon’s and Menelaus’ stories produce a close variation of the main protagonist’s story arc, but they also display a distinct failure or rather, a deviated alternative to the main ending. Cnemon’s narrative depicts romantic relationships that all deviate from the ideal love embodied by Charicleia and

81 Heliod., Aeth., 2.23. 82 Heliod., Aeth., 1.14-1.18. 83 Heliod., Aeth., 2.8-2.9. 84 Heliod., Aeth., 2.10. 85 Hom., Od., 3.130-200; 254-328. 86 Hom., Od., 4.266-289; 4.333-592. 87 Hom., Od. 4.235-264. 88 Hom., Od. 3.184-187. ὣς ἦλθον, φίλε τέκνον, ἀπευθής, οὐδέ τι οἶδα/ κείνων, οἵ τ᾽ ἐσάωθεν Ἀχαιῶν οἵ τ᾽ ἀπόλοντο. / ὅσσα δ᾽ ἐνὶ μεγάροισι καθήμενος ἡμετέροισι/ πεύθομαι, ἣ θέμις ἐστί, δαήσεαι, κοὐδέ σε δεύσω. 15

Theagenes’ romance, often ending in inequality, infidelity, betrayal, banishment, or death,89 while Charicleia and Theagenes’ romance focuses instead on the values of equality, chastity, reciprocity, trustworthiness, holiness,90 and the ideal.91 By the time that Cnemon begins his narrative, Heliodorus has already displayed the shared chastity which Charicleia and Theagenes uphold in a prayer that Charicleia makes to Apollo.92 In Cnemon’s narrative however, he depicts no relationship that equals the reciprocity of Charicleia and Theagenes. Thus, Cnemon relays a narrative about deviated love to a couple who represent ideal love.

Another similarity between the Telemachy and Cnemon’s narrative is that they both incorporate a disputable female perspective. In both cases, the female voice in these narratives contrast with the information provided by the male characters. In the Aethiopica, the uniformity between the male narrations depicting Thisbe’s lies and tricks that lead to Cnemon’s exile undermines her words of affection for Cnemon in her tablet, particularly because her message of love coincides with a request for her own freedom.93 Thisbe’s account is also discredited by the multiple male accounts that depict her aptitude for lying.94 Even though Anticles and Charias’ narratives are retold by Cnemon to Charicleia and Theagenes, Thisbe’s account was written down on a writing tablet (δέλτος).95 Since Thisbe’s account is written, her narrative presents the only version of Cnemon’s story independent of Cnemon’s bias. While Thisbe’s letter describes her love for him and her need for his help,96 Cnemon depicts Thisbe and Demainete deceiving other

89 J. R. Morgan, “The Story of Knemon in Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 274-281. 90 J. R. Morgan, “The Story of Knemon in Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 274-280. 91 J. R. Morgan, “The Story of Knemon in Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007), 280-281. 92 Heliod., Aeth., 1.8.3. Charicleia states: “εἰ δέ με γνώσεταί τις αἰσχρῶς, ἣν μηδέπω μηδὲ Θεαγένης, ἐγὼ μὲν ἀγχόνῃ προλήψομαι τὴν ὕβριν, καθαρὰν ἐμαυτὴν ὥσπερ φυλάττω καὶ μέχρι θανάτου φυλάξασα καὶ καλὸν ἐντάφιον τὴν σωφροσύνην ἀπενεγκαμένη· σοῦ δὲ οὐδεὶς ἔσται δικαστὴς πικρότερος.” 93 Heliod., Aeth., 2.10.3. “Ἐξελοῦ δή με χειρῶν λῃστρικῶν καὶ ὑπόδεξαι τὴν σαυτοῦ θεραπαινίδα· καὶ εἰ μὲν βούλει, σῷζε μαθὼν ὡς ἃ μὲν ἀδικεῖν ἔδοξα βιασθεῖσα, ἃ δὲ τετιμώρημαι τὴν σοὶ πολεμίαν ἑκοῦσα διεπραξάμην.” 94 Heliod., Aeth., 1.11, Cnemon describes her lying; 1.15-1.17, Charias, as the lover of Thisbe may relay dubious information, yet he still describes her as lying; Anticles, 2.9. 95 Heliod., Aeth., 2.10.1. “Ἀλλ’ εἰ δοκεῖ, τὴν δέλτον ἣν πρὸς τοῖς στέρνοις αὐτῆς εὑρήκαμεν ἐπισκοπῶμεν· εἰκός τι πλέον ἐντεῦθεν ἡμᾶς ἐκμαθεῖν.” 96 For contents of the entire letter, see Heliod., Aeth., 2.10. 16

characters,97 frame male characters,98 and on two of these occasions, Thisbe escapes punishment.99 The jarring perspectives of Thisbe and Cnemon bear a similarity between the dissonant perspectives of Helen and Menelaus. Helen portrays herself as a victim of Aphrodite, who wished to return to her country, her daughter, and her marriage bed.100 As such, her narrative shows her cooperation with Odysseus, instead of exposing him when she saw through his disguise.101 In response, Menelaus immediately retells another story of Odysseus’ excellence, wherein Helen aids the Trojan prince, Deiphobos, in identifying any Greek traps in the Trojan horse.102 Thus, Menelaus depicts Helen’s duplicity and complicity with the Trojans during the war, who use her to expose the hidden Greeks. Despite her collusion with his enemies, however, Menelaus clearly allows Helen to return to his household, by virtue of her appearance in Sparta. In both texts, therefore, the women deceive male characters around them, succeed in framing them, and escape punishment. Demainete, Thisbe, and Helen act as character foils to Charicleia and Penelope in the main plots of both the Aethiopica and the Odyssey.

In the same way that Cnemon’s love affairs mirror alternative versions of Charicleia in the main plot, Calasiris’ narrative also serves as a reflection of the main story of the novel. Cnemon’s narrative presents a reflection of the main story arc, a mise en abyme. The story of Cnemon incorporates this technique to produce an image of the main story within the entire work of the

97 Heliod., Aeth., 1.10. Demainete lies to Cnemon’s father, Aristippus, about Cnemon because he rebuffed her advances; Heliod., Aeth., 1.11.3. Thisbe lies to Cnemon about her attraction to him, even though she had rejected him beforehand. “Τοῦτο ἐπ´ ἐμὲ καθίησιν ἐρᾶν μου δῆθεν προστάξασα, καὶ ἤρα παραχρῆμα ἡ Θίσβη, καὶ ἡ πολλάκις πειρῶντά με ἀπωσαμένη τότε παντοίως ἐφείλκετο βλέμμασι νεύμασι συνθήμασιν· ἐγὼ δὲ ὁ μάταιος ἀθρόον καλὸς γεγενῆσθαι ἐπεπείσμην, καὶ τέλος ἐπὶ τὸν θάλαμον ἐλθοῦσαν νυκτὸς ὑπεδεχόμην· ἡ δὲ καὶ αὖθις ἀνῆκε καὶ πάλιν καὶ τοῦ λοιποῦ συνεχῶς ἐφοίτα.”; Heliod., Aeth., 1.15, Thisbe lies to Demainete, telling her that Cnemon is living with Arsinoe; Heliod., Aeth., 2.9, Arsinoe exaggerates to Demainete’s family that her death was caused by Thisbe. 98 Heliod., Aeth., 1.12, Demainete frames Cnemon, leading him to erroneously attack his own father; Heliod., Aeth., 1.17, Thisbe sets Demainete into a situation where she is caught with a man, whom she believes to be Cnemon, to show Aristippos, Cnemon’s father, her infidelity. 99 Heliod., Aeth., 1.12.3, Thisbe escapes from Cnemon after she leads him into Demainete’s trap. “τὴν Θίσβην περιέβλεπον οὐκ οἶδ´ ὅπως ἑαυτὴν ὑποστείλασαν· τὴν κλίνην καὶ τὸν θάλαμον ἐν κύκλῳ περιεσκόπουν…”; Heliod., Aeth., 2.9, Thisbe escapes from Athens with Nausicles, avoiding the conviction of Demainete’s murder. 100 Hom., Od. 4.235-264. 101 Hom., Od. 4.253-258. “ἀμφὶ δὲ εἵματα ἕσσα καὶ ὤμοσα καρτερὸν ὅρκον/ μὴ μὲν πρὶν Ὀδυσῆα μετὰ Τρώεσσ᾽ ἀναφῆναι, / πρίν γε τὸν ἐς νῆάς τε θοὰς κλισίας τ᾽ ἀφικέσθαι, / καὶ τότε δή μοι πάντα νόον κατέλεξεν Ἀχαιῶν. / πολλοὺς δὲ Τρώων κτείνας ταναήκεϊ χαλκῷ/ ἦλθε μετ᾽ Ἀργείους, κατὰ δὲ φρόνιν ἤγαγε πολλήν.” 102 Hom., Od. 4.274-276, “ἦλθες ἔπειτα σὺ κεῖσε: κελευσέμεναι δέ σ᾽ ἔμελλε/δαίμων, ὃς Τρώεσσιν ἐβούλετο κῦδος ὀρέξαι:/ καί τοι Δηΐφοβος θεοείκελος ἕσπετ᾽ ἰούσῃ.” (As Menelaus is addressing Helen in this scene, she is the object of his use of the second person verb). 17

text. As a result, the story of Cnemon plays with variations of circumstances that occur in later books of the novel and the structural components that regulate it.

Cnemon’s narrative reflects elements back onto the main narrative through intratextual reversals and parallels shared between Athenian characters and characters that feature later in the story. Cnemon’s stepmother, Demainete, resembles a synthesis of both Charicleia’s mother, Persinna, and the main antagonist, Arsace. Heliodorus presents Demainete as a foil to Persinna, since their actions both result in the exile of their children from their places of birth,103 yet their intentions and attitudes towards chastity are contrasted. While Persinna gave Charicleia away as a baby, she did so to avoid prosecutions of adultery, 104 whereas Demainete banishes Cnemon in response to his refusal to engage in adultery with her.105 While Charicleia is able to prove later in the novel that she is Persinna’s and Hydaspes’ child and therefore, absolves Persinna of accusations of adultery, Demainete’s guilt is revealed and leads to her suicide. Thus, Heliodorus’ depiction of Demainete reflects a deviated version of Persinna’s innocence.

Demainete’s suicide and treatment of her slaves ties the character more closely to the novel’s central antagonist, Arsace. Demainete commits suicide because her husband discovers her infidelity, through the intervention of Thisbe.106 These circumstances precisely match the suicide of Arsace, whose attempted adultery with Theagenes exposes her infidelity to her husband, through the intermediary of her slave’s son, Achaimenes. Heliodorus introduces Arsace’s suicide with a quotation from Euripides’ Hippolytos,107 which describes Phaedra’s death in a similar fashion.108 Earlier in the novel, Demainete calls Cnemon her young Hippolytus,109 which draws a direct parallel between the two women. Demainete and Arsace’s relationships to their slaves also reveal an intratextual link between these two characters. While Demainete blames Thisbe for orchestrating Cnemon’s absence,110 Arsace threatens Cybele for embarrassing her after she fails

103 See J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 301. Winkler first draws the comparison to these two story arcs that inspired the analysis in these passages. 104 Heliod., Aeth., 4.8. 105 Heliod., Aeth., 1.12-13. 106 Heliod., Aeth., 1.17. 107 Eur., Hipp., 802. 108 Heliod., Aeth., 8.15. 109 Heliod., Aeth., 1.10. 110 Heliod., Aeth., 1. 15. 18

to attract Theagenes.111 In both cases, these women place the responsibility of their own actions onto the actions of their slaves, who performed these acts at their mistresses’ request. Both Demainete and Arsace are slighted by the rejection of Greek men, which Heliodorus extends further to the women’s commission of suicide instead of facing a confrontation with their husbands.112 Arsace’s character also bears a resemblance to Arsinoe the flute player, as both characters experience radical jealousy over the possession of a man. While Arsinoe desires Nausicles, he prefers Thisbe for her beauty and superior musical talents.113 Similarly, while Arsace desires Theagenes, he remains loyal to Charicleia.114 Heliodorus continues drawing parallels between Cnemon’s story and the main narrative by reflecting the actions of Thisbe in the actions of Arsace’s maid, Cybele. Both characters lie excessively,115 they both frame other characters,116 they both act as an in-between for their masters’ schemes, and they both die.117 Thus, Heliodorus emulates Homer by portraying the same reflective link between Cnemon’s narrative and the main narrative story. In order to establish the apparent reflective link, Heliodorus also synthesizes information from multiple sections of the plot and conflates them in one character, just as Homer conflates the figures Polyphemus and Tiresias, who appear within Odysseus’ account, into the singular portrayal of Proteus in Menelaus’ narration, which I shall explore in more detail below.

The narration of Menelaus’ banishment to Egypt reproduces a shorter rendition of the Odysseus’ episodic adventures.118 Menelaus begins his story by describing how he, like Odysseus,119 was blown off course on his return voyage home from the Trojan War.120 Both

111 Heliod., Aeth., 8.5-6. 112 Heliod., Aeth., 1.18; 8.15. 113 Heliod., Aeth., 2.8-9. 114 This exchange happens over the course of several passages, however, see especially Heliod., Aeth., 7.26. 115 For the passages of Thisbe lying, see Heliod., Aeth., 1.11, 1.15; For the passages of Cybele lying, see Heliod., Aeth., 7.11, 7.12, 7.15, 7.17, 7.19, 7.21, 7.22, 7.25, 8.5, 8.6, 8.7, 8.8. 116 Heliod., Aeth., 1.17, 8.7-8. 117 Heliod., Aeth., 2.6-2.11; 8.7-8. 118 Paul Plass, “Menelaus and Proteus,” The Classical Journal 65, no. 3. (1969): 104-105; Barry B. Powell, “Narrative Pattern in the Homeric Tale of Menelaus,” Transactions and Proceedings of the American Philological Association 101 (1970): 419. Powell also comments on how Menelaus’ burying of the helmsman resembles Odysseus goes back to Aeaea to erect a mound for Elpenor and how Helen’s drug recalls Odysseus’ encounter with the lotus-eaters (see, 420-422). 119 Hom., Od. 9.37-40. “εἰ δ᾽ ἄγε τοι καὶ νόστον ἐμὸν πολυκηδέ᾽ ἐνίσπω, /ὅν μοι Ζεὺς ἐφέηκεν ἀπὸ Τροίηθεν ἰόντι. / Ἰλιόθεν με φέρων ἄνεμος Κικόνεσσι πέλασσεν, Ἰσμάρῳ. Ἔνθα δ᾽ ἐγὼ πόλιν ἔπραθον, ὤλεσα δ᾽ αὐτούς:” 120 Hom., Od. 4.351-359. “Αἰγύπτῳ μ᾽ ἔτι δεῦρο θεοὶ μεμαῶτα νέεσθαι / ἔσχον, ἐπεὶ οὔ σφιν ἔρεξα τεληέσσας ἑκατόμβας. / οἱ δ᾽ αἰεὶ βούλοντο θεοὶ μεμνῆσθαι ἐφετμέων. / νῆσος ἔπειτά τις ἔστι πολυκλύστῳ ἐνὶ πόντῳ/ Αἰγύπτου προπάροιθε, Φάρον δέ ἑ κικλήσκουσι, / τόσσον ἄνευθ᾽ ὅσσον τε πανημερίη γλαφυρὴ νηῦς/ ἤνυσεν, ᾗ λιγὺς οὖρος ἐπιπνείῃσιν ὄπισθεν:/ ἐν δὲ λιμὴν ἐύορμος, ὅθεν τ᾽ ἀπὸ νῆας ἐίσας/ ἐς πόντον βάλλουσιν, ἀφυσσάμενοι μέλαν ὕδωρ.” 19

Menelaus and Odysseus receive supernatural aid from the daughters of non-Olympian gods and are both linked to the sea through their heritage.121 These women both tell Odysseus and Menelaus a way to discover how to return to their homeland.122 Menelaus’ encounter with Proteus synthesizes elements from both Odysseus’ adventures fighting Polyphemus and the prophecy of Tiresias, as he is forced to trick Proteus in order to receive a prophecy from him.123 This exchange reflects how Odysseus tricks Polyphemus. After blinding the cyclops,124 Odysseus and his men escape from his cave by hiding under the bellies of his flock of sheep when Polyphemus released them to graze.125 Both the seals and sheep are explicitly referred to as large and bountiful, and in both cases, these animals are used against their owners. The prophecy Proteus relays to Menelaus, however, precisely reflects the same format as the prophecy that Tiresias relays to Odysseus. Proteus and Tiresias’ speech both begin with an explanation of the transgressions that Menelaus and Odysseus have made.126 Both prophecies then transition into the instruction of tasks the heroes

121 Hom., Od. 4.363-366. Menelaus receives help from Eidothea, daughter of Proteus: “καί νύ κεν ἤια πάντα κατέφθιτο καὶ μένε᾽ ἀνδρῶν, / εἰ μή τίς με θεῶν ὀλοφύρατο καί μ᾽ ἐσάωσε, / Πρωτέος ἰφθίμου θυγάτηρ ἁλίοιο γέροντος, / Εἰδοθέη: τῇ γάρ ῥα μάλιστά γε θυμὸν ὄρινα.”; Hom., Od. 10.135-139. Odysseus receives help from Circe, daughter of Helios and the Oceanid, Perse: “ἔνθα δ᾽ ἔναιε/ Κίρκη ἐυπλόκαμος, δεινὴ θεὸς αὐδήεσσα, / αὐτοκασιγνήτη ὀλοόφρονος Αἰήταο:/ ἄμφω δ᾽ ἐκγεγάτην φαεσιμβρότου Ἠελίοιο/ μητρός τ᾽ ἐκ Πέρσης, τὴν Ὠκεανὸς τέκε παῖδα.” 122 Hom., Od 4.370-383. “ἡ δέ μευ ἄγχι στᾶσα ἔπος φάτο φώνησέν τε:/ "νήπιός εἰς, ὦ ξεῖνε, λίην τόσον ἠδὲ χαλίφρων, / ἦε ἑκὼν μεθίεις καὶ τέρπεαι ἄλγεα πάσχων;/ ὡς δὴ δήθ᾽ ἐνὶ νήσῳ ἐρύκεαι, οὐδέ τι τέκμωρ/ εὑρέμεναι δύνασαι, μινύθει δέ τοι ἦτορ ἑταίρων.”/ὣς ἔφατ᾽, αὐτὰρ ἐγώ μιν ἀμειβόμενος προσέειπον:/ ‘ἐκ μέν τοι ἐρέω, ἥ τις σύ πέρ ἐσσι θεάων, / ὡς ἐγὼ οὔ τι ἑκὼν κατερύκομαι, ἀλλά νυ μέλλω/ἀθανάτους ἀλιτέσθαι, οἳ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι. Ἀλλὰ σύ πέρ μοι εἰπέ, θεοὶ δέ τε πάντα ἴσασιν, / ὅς τίς μ᾽ ἀθανάτων πεδάᾳ καὶ ἔδησε κελεύθου, / νόστον θ᾽, ὡς ἐπὶ πόντον ἐλεύσομαι ἰχθυόεντα. /” ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δ᾽ αὐτίκ᾽ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων:/ ‘τοιγὰρ ἐγώ τοι, ξεῖνε, μάλ᾽ ἀτρεκέως ἀγορεύσω.”; Hom., Od. 10.487-495. “ὣς ἐφάμην, ἡ δ᾽ αὐτίκ᾽ ἀμείβετο δῖα θεάων:/ ‘διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχαν᾽ Ὀδυσσεῦ, / μηκέτι νῦν ἀέκοντες ἐμῷ ἐνὶ μίμνετε οἴκῳ. / ἀλλ᾽ ἄλλην χρὴ πρῶτον ὁδὸν τελέσαι καὶ ἱκέσθαι/ εἰς Ἀίδαο δόμους καὶ ἐπαινῆς Περσεφονείης, / ψυχῇ χρησομένους Θηβαίου Τειρεσίαο,/ μάντηος ἀλαοῦ, τοῦ τε φρένες ἔμπεδοί εἰσι:/ τῷ καὶ τεθνηῶτι νόον πόρε Περσεφόνεια,/ οἴῳ πεπνῦσθαι, τοὶ δὲ σκιαὶ ἀίσσουσιν.” 123 The act of tricking Proteus emphasizes how Proteus appears unsuspecting of the ambush as he tends to his flock of seals (φώκας/ ζατρεφέας). Hom., Od. 4.448-460. “αἱ μὲν ἔπειτα/ ἑξῆς εὐνάζοντο παρὰ ῥηγμῖνι θαλάσσης:/ ἔνδιος δ᾽ ὁ γέρων ἦλθ᾽ ἐξ ἁλός, εὗρε δὲ φώκας/ ζατρεφέας, πάσας δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἐπῴχετο, λέκτο δ᾽ ἀριθμόν:/ ἐν δ᾽ ἡμέας πρώτους λέγε κήτεσιν, οὐδέ τι θυμῷ/ ὠΐσθη δόλον εἶναι: ἔπειτα δὲ λέκτο καὶ αὐτός./ἡμεῖς δὲ ἰάχοντες ἐπεσσύμεθ᾽, ἀμφὶ δὲ χεῖρας/βάλλομεν: οὐδ᾽ ὁ γέρων δολίης ἐπελήθετο τέχνης,/ ἀλλ᾽ ἦ τοι πρώτιστα λέων γένετ᾽ ἠυγένειος,/ αὐτὰρ ἔπειτα δράκων καὶ πάρδαλις ἠδὲ μέγας σῦς:/ γίγνετο δ᾽ ὑγρὸν ὕδωρ καὶ δένδρεον ὑψιπέτηλον:/ ἡμεῖς δ᾽ ἀστεμφέως ἔχομεν τετληότι θυμῷ./ ἀλλ᾽ ὅτε δή ῥ᾽ ἀνίαζ᾽ ὁ γέρων ὀλοφώια εἰδώς.” 124 Hom., Od. 9.383-397. “ἐγὼ δ᾽ ἐφύπερθεν ἐρεισθεὶς/ δίνεον, ὡς ὅτε τις τρυπῷ δόρυ νήιον ἀνὴρ/ τρυπάνῳ, οἱ δέ τ᾽ ἔνερθεν ὑποσσείουσιν ἱμάντι/ ἁψάμενοι ἑκάτερθε, τὸ δὲ τρέχει ἐμμενὲς αἰεί./ ὣς τοῦ ἐν ὀφθαλμῷ πυριήκεα μοχλὸν ἑλόντες/ δινέομεν, τὸν δ᾽ αἷμα περίρρεε θερμὸν ἐόντα./ πάντα δέ οἱ βλέφαρ᾽ ἀμφὶ καὶ ὀφρύας εὗσεν ἀυτμὴ/ γλήνης καιομένης, σφαραγεῦντο δέ οἱ πυρὶ ῥίζαι./ ὡς δ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἀνὴρ χαλκεὺς πέλεκυν μέγαν ἠὲ σκέπαρνον/ εἰν ὕδατι ψυχρῷ βάπτῃ μεγάλα ἰάχοντα/ φαρμάσσων: τὸ γὰρ αὖτε σιδήρου γε κράτος ἐστίν/ ὣς τοῦ σίζ᾽ ὀφθαλμὸς ἐλαϊνέῳ περὶ μοχλῷ./ σμερδαλέον δὲ μέγ᾽ ᾤμωξεν, περὶ δ᾽ ἴαχε πέτρη,/ ἡμεῖς δὲ δείσαντες ἀπεσσύμεθ᾽: αὐτὰρ ὁ μοχλὸν/ ἐξέρυσ᾽ ὀφθαλμοῖο πεφυρμένον αἵματι πολλῷ.” 125 Hom., Od. 9.425-426. “ἄρσενες ὄιες ἦσαν ἐυτρεφέες, δασύμαλλοι, / καλοί τε μεγάλοι τε, ἰοδνεφὲς εἶρος ἔχοντες:” 126 Hom., Od. 4.472-474. “ἀλλὰ μάλ᾽ ὤφελλες Διί τ᾽ ἄλλοισίν τε θεοῖσι/ ῥέξας ἱερὰ κάλ᾽ ἀναβαινέμεν, ὄφρα τάχιστα/ σὴν ἐς πατρίδ᾽ ἵκοιο πλέων ἐπὶ οἴνοπα πόντον.”; Hom., Od. 11.101-103. “τὸν δέ τοι ἀργαλέον θήσει θεός: οὐ γὰρ ὀίω/ λήσειν ἐννοσίγαιον, ὅ τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ/ χωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.” 20

need to complete in order to make their return.127 Finally, both prophecies end with the prediction of the recipient’s fate.128 Once Menelaus and Odysseus complete the instructions of these prophecies, they eventually return to their homeland.

Despite how the events in Cnemon and Menelaus’ accounts compare to their respective main narratives, the techniques used in these stories oppose the stylistic literary strategies of the overall plot. While these qualities have already been noticed in Cnemon’s text by J. J. Winkler, these strategies had yet to be compared to Menelaus’ story, particularly in comparison to the Aethiopica. In terms of simplicity, the many voices that control the diegeses of Menelaus and Cnemon portray a linear series of events,129 independent of the information required to understand the main narrative. Accordingly, these narratives make sense independently of the entire novel and all the information imparted in Menelaus and Cnemon’s text must rely on surprise instead of suspense to produce the same effects and echoes present in the main narratives they mirror. Since the end of both Calasiris and Odysseus’ accounts would have been known to the reader before they begin, their stories work towards the answering of clear and specific questions that are posed in the in medias res beginning of their texts. The events in both the stories from the Telemachy and that of Cnemon, but relay all information, regardless of narrator, in chronological order. Furthermore, the chronological order of these events controls the chronological portrayal of the stories. By establishing a pacing within the novel that cultivates interest rather than deterring it, Cnemon’s embedded story relies on the generation of dramatic events in this chronological order. Therefore, the chronology, uniformity, and independence from the main plot causes complications

127 Hom., Od. 4. 475-479. “οὐ γάρ τοι πρὶν μοῖρα φίλους τ᾽ ἰδέειν καὶ ἱκέσθαι/ οἶκον ἐυκτίμενον καὶ σὴν ἐς πατρίδα γαῖαν, / πρίν γ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἂν Αἰγύπτοιο, διιπετέος ποταμοῖο, / αὖτις ὕδωρ ἔλθῃς ῥέξῃς θ᾽ ἱερὰς ἑκατόμβας/ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι:”; Hom., Od. 11. 110-134. “τὰς εἰ μέν κ᾽ ἀσινέας ἐάᾳς νόστου τε μέδηαι, / καί κεν ἔτ᾽ εἰς Ἰθάκην κακά περ πάσχοντες ἵκοισθε:/ εἰ δέ κε σίνηαι, τότε τοι τεκμαίρομ᾽ ὄλεθρον, /νηί τε καὶ ἑτάροις. αὐτὸς δ᾽ εἴ πέρ κεν ἀλύξῃς,/ ὀψὲ κακῶς νεῖαι, ὀλέσας ἄπο πάντας ἑταίρους,/ νηὸς ἐπ᾽ ἀλλοτρίης: δήεις δ᾽ ἐν πήματα οἴκῳ,/ ἄνδρας ὑπερφιάλους, οἵ τοι βίοτον κατέδουσι/ μνώμενοι ἀντιθέην ἄλοχον καὶ ἕδνα διδόντες./ ἀλλ᾽ ἦ τοι κείνων γε βίας ἀποτίσεαι ἐλθών:/ αὐτὰρ ἐπὴν μνηστῆρας ἐνὶ μεγάροισι τεοῖσι/ κτείνῃς ἠὲ δόλῳ ἢ ἀμφαδὸν ὀξέι χαλκῷ,/ ἔρχεσθαι δὴ ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν,/ εἰς ὅ κε τοὺς ἀφίκηαι οἳ οὐκ ἴσασι θάλασσαν/ ἀνέρες, οὐδέ θ᾽ ἅλεσσι μεμιγμένον εἶδαρ ἔδουσιν:/ οὐδ᾽ ἄρα τοί γ᾽ ἴσασι νέας φοινικοπαρῄους/ οὐδ᾽ ἐυήρε᾽ ἐρετμά, τά τε πτερὰ νηυσὶ πέλονται./ σῆμα δέ τοι ἐρέω μάλ᾽ ἀριφραδές, οὐδέ σε λήσει:/ ὁππότε κεν δή τοι συμβλήμενος ἄλλος ὁδίτης/ φήῃ ἀθηρηλοιγὸν ἔχειν ἀνὰ φαιδίμῳ ὤμῳ,/ καὶ τότε δὴ γαίῃ πήξας ἐυῆρες ἐρετμόν,/ ῥέξας ἱερὰ καλὰ Ποσειδάωνι ἄνακτι,/ ἀρνειὸν ταῦρόν τε συῶν τ᾽ ἐπιβήτορα κάπρον,/ οἴκαδ᾽ ἀποστείχειν ἔρδειν θ᾽ ἱερᾶς ἑκατόμβας/ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι, τοὶ οὐρανὸν εὐρὺν ἔχουσι,/ πᾶσι μάλ᾽ ἑξείης.” 128 Hom., Od. 4.480-481. “καὶ τότε τοι δώσουσιν ὁδὸν θεοί, ἣν σὺ μενοινᾷς.”; Hom., Od. 11.134-137. “θάνατος δέ τοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ/ ἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ σε πέφνῃ/ γήραι ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον: ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ/ ὄλβιοι ἔσσονται. τὰ δέ τοι νημερτέα εἴρω.” 129 J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 300-301. 21

in the narratives of Menelaus and Cnemon as it continues to evolve. Accordingly, the accounts that make up Cnemon’s story are a clear allusion to the multiple voices present in the Telemachy, however, Heliodorus ties Cnemon far more clearly to the figure of Menelaus. The ties between Cnemon’s story and the stories within the Telemachy exist not only because of similarities between the two narratives, but more explicitly because of the role they play within the entire texts as a true reflection of the main story.

1.3 Aesthetics and their role in the Narrative

Homeric allusions marked by the presence of Homeric language, such as quotations or paraphrased language, reinforce the changes in narrative voice. Heliodorus mainly uses Homeric vocabulary in the first half of the novel,130 whereas the second half of the text contains considerably less.131 Since the change in pattern of this language occurs at the midpoint of the text, it therefore enhances the shift in narrative voice back to the primary perspective. The Homeric language in the Aethiopica simultaneously contrasts with and conforms to the Odyssean elements in the structure. On the one hand, the placement of this archaic language contrasts with the Odyssey, by invoking the contexts of scenes from the Iliad.132 As a result, the overwhelming impression of the Odyssey apparent in the Aethiopica cannot directly come from the sole usage of Homeric language, but it supports the main narrative voice and adds Homeric colour to a scene by alluding to a compatible scene from elsewhere in Homer’s corpus.

In addition to the vocabulary of Homeric poems, Heliodorus supplies his characters with Homeric actions. By having his characters perform Homeric acts, Heliodorus places his characters in the roles of Homeric characters in the same way that the narrators of the text allude to their Homeric counterparts by performing the role they carry out in the text. For example, at the end of Cnemon and Calasiris’ narratives, both speakers cry just as Menelaus and Odysseus cry after they

130 As noted in Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 349-472n.1-253. Morgan identifies forty instances of Homeric language in the novel before the end of the fifth book. 131 Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 472-588. Aside from the eighth book, where Morgan identifies no Homeric vocabulary, Morgan identifies only three instances of Homeric language per book after the midpoint of the novel. I have found at least two examples not mentioned by Morgan in this section that indicates this recurring pattern cannot be entirely trusted. (See Heliod., Aeth., 7.28 to Hom., Od., 1.266, 4.346, 17.137; 8.1 to Od., 4.266-289.) 132 Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 349-588. Out of Morgan’s footnotes, there are thirty-six instances of allusions to text from the Iliad compared to the nineteen instances of allusions to text from the Odyssey. 22

retell their narratives.133 Therefore, the context of the original scene is recalled and compared to the emulated scene because the characters behave as their Homeric counterparts do in specific situations, such as in the emotional response to narration. This technique is particularly noticeable with the behavior of Calasiris, who performs acts of duplicity in order to achieve his goals, just like Odysseus.134 The characters of the novel reinforce the information Calasiris already provides in the text as an internal secondary narrator by performing these acts alongside Calasiris’ role as the Odyssean narrator of the novel.

Heliodorus employs a series of strategies to reproduce the structural design of the Odyssey in his novel. One of the main techniques he uses splits his text into the perspectives of three voices: The primary narrator, Calasiris, and Cnemon. These narrators do not only embody the same number, order, and duration of narrations as that of the Odyssey, but also, they play a comparable role in the overall text and motivate the narrative through the manipulation of textual chronology. Heliodorus strengthens these established ties by placing the novel’s narratives in the same order as the Odyssey with a comparable length to their Odyssean counterparts. In order to cement these ties further, Heliodorus places characters into situations and spaces that work with the reanimation of the Odyssean structure in order to produce vivid episodes. The aesthetic qualities and the structural markers that indicate allusions to the Odyssey reinforce one another. While Heliodorus places Homeric vocabulary in new contexts, the placements of Homer’s text emphasize the structure outlined by the shifting narrative voices because they change in their distribution at the midpoint of the novel. Therefore, the entire structure of the Aethiopica evokes an impression of the Odyssey not because of the Homeric material present in the content, but rather because Heliodorus has modelled the entire text on the Odyssey. In the following chapters of this thesis, I will explore the reproduction and reinterpretation of Homeric episodes in the Aethiopica. By analyzing these aesthetic literary allusions to Homer within the context of the narrative structure,

133 Heliod., Aeth., 1.18.1. “Καὶ ἅμα ἐδάκρυεν· ἐδάκρυον δὲ καὶ οἱ ξένοι, τὰ μὲν ἐκείνου πρόφασιν, μνήμῃ δὲ τῶν ἰδίων ἕκαστος.”; 5.33.4. “Ἐπὶ τούτοις ἐδάκρυε μὲν αὐτὸς ἐδάκρυον δὲ οἱ παρόντες καὶ εἰς θρῆνον ἡδονῇ τινι σύγκρατον μετεβέβλητο τὸ συμπόσιον,”; See Hom., Od. 4.183-188. “ὣς φάτο, τοῖσι δὲ πᾶσιν ὑφ᾽ ἵμερον ὦρσε γόοιο./ κλαῖε μὲν Ἀργείη Ἑλένη, Διὸς ἐκγεγαυῖα, /κλαῖε δὲ Τηλέμαχός τε καὶ Ἀτρεΐδης Μενέλαος,/ οὐδ᾽ ἄρα Νέστορος υἱὸς ἀδακρύτω ἔχεν ὄσσε:/ μνήσατο γὰρ κατὰ θυμὸν ἀμύμονος Ἀντιλόχοιο,/ τόν ῥ᾽ Ἠοῦς ἔκτεινε φαεινῆς ἀγλαὸς υἱός:” See Luca Graverini, “From the Epic to the Novelistic Hero,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 292-294. 134 Heliod., Aeth., 3.17; 4.5; 4.18; 5.13; See also Alain Billault’s comments on the comparison between Calasiris and Lycourgus. Alain Billault, “Holy Man or Charlatan? The Case of Kalasiris in Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Holy Men and Charlatans in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 19, ed. Stelios Panayotakis, Gareth Schmeling, and Michael Paschalis. (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2015), 125. 23

I will examine the intricate connection that exists between Heliodorus’ novel and the Homeric texts from which the novel references in such detail.

Chapter 2

The Episodic Markers of the Aethiopica

In the last chapter, I demonstrated how the structure of Heliodorus’ novel marked allusive links to the Odyssey primarily through the changes in narrative voice. Yet the Odyssean structure of the Aethiopica is not the only attribute that links the story to Homer’s second epic poem. Using literary devices which play with literal and figurative representations of Odyssean scenes through exposition in the fabula or through the organization of narrative, Heliodorus produces a sequence of episodes from the Odyssey. Allusive material conveyed in a narrative may be provided within the context of the story events or outside thereof. For the sake of brevity, I will differentiate between these modes by way of Gérard Genette, who labels narrative information outside of a fabula as an extra-diegesis.135 Heliodorus alludes to Homer on an extra-diegetic level because he relies on the structural organization to inform and mark an indication of which scene will come next. These episodes allude to the epic poem on a lesser scale than the structure, yet they occur in largely the same order as their corresponding Odyssean episodes. Often, the elements that build towards an episodic allusion rely on the combination of details that cultivate tropes.136 Heliodorus’ usage of tropes portrays characters performing actions in spaces that are reminiscent of Homer at various levels and often work together to reproduce a rendition of a Homeric episode.137 Alternatively, Heliodorus transforms literal descriptions of Homeric episodes into figurative interpretations of the original. Some studies have already analyzed allusive attributes in the description of the opening scene of the Aethiopica, which work together to reform the Odyssey’s

135 Gérard Genette, Narrative Discourse: An Essay in Method, Translated by Jane E. Lewin, (New York: Cornell University Press, 1980), 228 & 230 for definition of diegetic and extradiegetic; Monika Fludernik, An Introduction to Narratology, (London: Routledge, 2006), 100. “Genette introduces a distinction between the story level (diegetic level) and the extradiegetic level of the act of narrating, as well as a distinction between the diegetic and an embedded diegetic level, in other words the level of the ‘story within a story’.” 136 René Nünlist, The Ancient Critic at Work, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2009), 61, 384. Rhetoricians such as Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Quintilian label a trope as a word or speech in which the meaning is substituted from its own meaning into another. See Dion. Hal. Comp., 12.12. “τὴν ὁμοιότητα διαλύειν συν εχῶς ὀνομάτων τε τῶν ἑξῆς τιθεμένων πολλῶν καὶ ῥημάτων καὶ τῶν ἄλλων μερῶν τὸν κόρον φυλαττομένους, σχήμασί τε μὴ ἐπὶ τοῖς αὐτοῖς ἀεὶ μένειν ἀλλὰ θαμινὰ μεταβάλλειν καὶ τρόπους μὴ τοὺς αὐτοὺς ἐπεισφέρειν, ἀλλὰ ποικίλλειν, μηδὲ δὴ ἄρχεσθαι πολλάκις ἀπὸ τῶν αὐτῶν μηδὲ λήγειν εἰς τὰ αὐτὰ ὑπερτείνοντας τὸν ἑκατέρου καιρόν.”; See also, Quint. Inst. 8.6. “Tropos est verbi vel sermonis a propria significatione in aliam cum virtute mutatio…” 137 For an observation of the traits of Odysseus performed by the characters of the Aethiopica, see Koen de Temmerman, “Characterization in the Ancient Novel,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel. (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 232; see also, B. P. Reardon, “Chariton,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 331. 25

Mnesterophonia scene.138 However, by observing only one episode, the consistent and explicit allusive link to the Odyssey is inaccessible. Thus, to approach the overall design of Homeric material, I will examine episodes of the novel in the order of their appearance within Heliodorus’ text and how these Homeric elements build each into its recognizable state. The episodes that I will examine in this chapter will allude primarily to the first half of the Odyssey, followed by a brief analysis of two recognition scenes that occur in the second half of the novel.

2.1 The Opening Scene as the Mnesterophonia

Heliodorus begins his novel primarily by drawing from the episode at the end of the Odyssey, rather than reproducing the opening scene of Homer’s first epic poem. The inclusion of Iliadic material in the Odyssean model enables Heliodorus to allude to the Mnesterophonia episode at the beginning of his novel, while creating an opening scene that encapsulates both the opening strategies of the Iliad and the Odyssey.139 The allusions are achieved by the setting of the beach, the literalization of a Homeric simile, and the depiction of Charicleia. These multiple elements reinforce one another to build a cohesive link to the entirety of the Odyssey’s Mnesterophonia scene. The first scene of the novel is set in a location that could be somewhat banal in epic poetry, the beach. The term that Heliodorus uses, αἰγιαλός, appears in two Homeric passages, the first occurring in the fourth book of the Iliad to describe the terrain of a battle led by Diomedes,140 which results in Homer’s vivid description of the wounds inflicted on individual soldiers.141 As Heliodorus alludes to violence in the Iliad through textual quotations and the similarities of the setting, he also emphasizes the scene’s overall relationship to the Mnesterophonia, with its graphic display of described gore and violence as Odysseus slays the suitors. In that scene, the term αἰγιαλός is used in a simile that compares the dead suitors to fish. Heliodorus strengthens the

138 Mario Telò, “The Eagle's Gaze in the Opening of Heliodorus' Aethiopica,” American Journal of Philology 132, no. 4 (2011): 581-613. Telò argues that Heliodorus’ usage of ecphrasis aids in an episodic allusion to the Mnesterophonia scene of the Odyssey; Aldo Tagliabue, “Heliodorus’ Aethiopica and the Odyssean Mnesterophonia: An Intermedial Reading,” Transactions of the American Philological Association 145, no. 2 (2015): 448; E. Feuillâtre, Études sur les Éthiopiques d’Héliodore: Contribution à la connaissance du roman grec, (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1966), 105. 139 See above, 21. 140 Hom., Il. 4.422-3. “ὡς δ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἐν αἰγιαλῷ πολυη χέϊ κῦμα θαλάσσης/ ὄρνυτ᾽ ἐπασσύτερον Ζεφύρου ὕπο κινήσαντος…” 141 Hom., Il. 457-531. The beach described in the opening scene of the Iliad, however, is never referred to as an αἰγιαλός, but primarily as a θίς, describing the terrain as a sandbank. Hom., Il. 1.34, 316, 350. 26

allusion to Homer’s simile through the use of the participle of σπαίρω.142 This verb is often attributed to the gasping of fish.143 Homer ties the cognate of the verb, ἀσπαίρω, directly to the description of preyed animals.144 In the middle of the Odyssey, Homer explicitly relates this expression to fish as Scylla drags the men into her cave, and compares Scylla to a fisherman figure catching the fish.145 This simile is revisited again in the Mnesterophonia, where the dead suitors are described as fish stacked in a heap, drying in the sun.146 Aristotle uses the term to describe the difference between the human act of respiration and the gasping made by fishes after they leave the water.147 Later authors, however, applied the term to the heavy breathing of men. Apollonius of Rhodes uses it to describe a child gasping for air in the fire,148 Polybius uses it again to portray a man dragged into a stadium gasping,149 and Dionysius seems to refer to a dead body in the same sense as Heliodorus, depicting a “quivering” or “twitching” motion.150 Perhaps later ancient readers understood the meaning of σπαίρω in reference to fish as a figurative metaphor. Since each excerpt refers explicitly to men, however, the term may have simply altered to describe an experience of heavy breathing in people. While Heliodorus does not describe his dead bodies in a heap, he does mention that the beach (αἰγιαλός) was entirely full of the gasping (σπαιρόντων) soldiers,151 while he also explicitly refers to the sun rising over the scene in the beginning of that same passage.152 However, this allusion is only accessible through the recognition of multiple, seemingly unrelated components that build on the episode’s setting. Consequently, Heliodorus’ imagery recreates small elements that must be recognized together as a literalization of Homer’s

142 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1.3. “Ὁ δὲ αἰγιαλός, μεστὰ πάντα σωμάτων νεοσφαγῶν, τῶν μὲν ἄρδην ἀπολωλότων, τῶν δὲ ἡμιθνήτων καὶ μέρεσι τῶν σωμάτων ἔτι σπαιρόντων, ἄρτι πεπαῦσθαι τὸν πόλεμον κατηγορούντων.” 143 Mario Telò, “The Eagle's Gaze in the Opening of Heliodorus' Aethiopica,” American Journal of Philology 132, no. 4 (2011): 597. “Read against the Odyssean background of the scene, the participle σπαιρόντων allusively lays bare the original piscine identity of these corpses and, at the same time, contributes to the ecphrastic quality of the description.”; 597n.58. LSJ, s.v. “σπαíρω.” 144 For examples of these descriptions, see Hom., Il. 12.203; 13.443; 13.571; Od. 12.251-255; 19.229. 145 Hom., Od. 12.251-257. “ὡς δ᾽ ὅτ᾽ ἐπὶ προβόλῳ ἁλιεὺς περιμήκεϊ ῥάβδῳ/ ἰχθύσι τοῖς ὀλίγοισι δόλον κατὰ εἴδατα βάλλων/ ἐς πόντον προΐησι βοὸς κέρας ἀγραύλοιο, / ἀσπαίροντα δ᾽ ἔπειτα λαβὼν ἔρριψε θύραζε,/ ὣς οἵ γ᾽ ἀσπαίροντες ἀείροντο προτὶ πέτρας:/ αὐτοῦ δ᾽ εἰνὶ θύρῃσι κατήσθιε κεκληγῶτας/ χεῖρας ἐμοὶ ὀρέγοντας ἐν αἰνῇ δηιοτῆτι…” 146 Hom., Od. 22.383-289. “τοὺς δὲ ἴδεν μάλα πάντας ἐν αἵματι καὶ κονίῃσι/ πεπτεῶτας πολλούς, ὥστ᾽ ἰχθύας, οὕς θ᾽ ἁλιῆες/ κοῖλον ἐς αἰγιαλὸν πολιῆς ἔκτοσθε θαλάσσης/ δικτύῳ ἐξέρυσαν πολυωπῷ: οἱ δέ τε πάντες/ κύμαθ᾽ ἁλὸς ποθέοντες ἐπὶ ψαμάθοισι κέχυνται:/ τῶν μέν τ᾽ Ἠέλιος φαέθων ἐξείλετο θυμόν:/ ὣς τότ᾽ ἄρα μνηστῆρες ἐπ᾽ ἀλλήλοισι κέχυντο.” 147 Arist. Parv. Nat. 471a-b. 148 Ap. Rhod. Argon.4.874. 149 Polyb. 15.33.5. 150 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 4.39. 151 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1.3. “μεστὰ πάντα σωμάτων νεοσφαγῶν…” 152 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1.1. “ἡλίου τὰς ἀκρωρείας καταυγάζοντος…” 27

simile in the Mnesterophonia using specific vocabulary and the placement of many elements from that simile.

Heliodorus’ presentation of the dead men on the beach as a literal depiction of Homer’s simile of Penelope’s suitors adds details that allude further to the Mnesterophonia’s setting of the opening. These paraphrases work together to develop a cohesive setting that refers to moments within the Mnesterophonia. Heliodorus imbues the opening scene with the same tonal transition of banquet vocabulary,153 polluted by imagery of death and violence.154 While some tables are still set with food, others were used as weapons,155 just as tables are used as shields in the Odyssey.156 The spilled wine157 recalls the wine that spills as Odysseus kills Antinous.158 The inclusion of these

153 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1. 154 For an analysis on the tonal shift between the opening scene between the feasting and warring imagery, see Mario Telò, “The Eagle's Gaze in the Opening of Heliodorus' Aethiopica,” American Journal of Philology 132, no. 4 (2011): 586. “In line 11, the contiguity of οἴνοιο and φόνος signposts the transgressive blurring between feasting and war that is enacted in Book 22 and flags the intrusion of Iliadic themes into the domestic realm of the Odyssey.”; 586n. 12. “Book 22 is usually regarded as the most Iliadic book of the Odyssey: cf. most recently [Johannes]Haubold…, [Homer’s People: Epic Poetry and Social Formation,] 123, and [W. C.] Scott … [The Artistry of the Homeric Simile], 112. On the thematization of blood and bloodshed in the Iliad, see, in particular, [Tamara]Neal ... [“Blood and Hunger in the Iliad” CP 101: 15-33.]”; Aldo Tagliabue, “Heliodorus’ Aethiopica and the Odyssean Mnesterophonia: An Intermedial Reading,” Transactions of the American Philological Association 145, no. 2 (2015): 448. 155 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1. In Calasiris’ later description of the scene, the banquet table is associated with Sidonian craftsmanship, which in Homer is tied to the dress Helen wears while she is being kidnapped by Paris to Troy. See Heliod., Aeth., 5.29; Hom., Il. 6.289. 156 Hom., Od. 22.74-75. This observation was originally noticed by E. Feuillâtre. See E. Feuillâtre, Études sur les Éthiopiques d’Héliodore: Contribution à la connaissance du roman grec, (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1966), 105. “Chariclée tire des flèches infaillibles, comme le fait Ulysse, et, dans les deux scènes, les projectiles les plus divers sont envoyés, les tables renversées servant de bouclier.”; See also, Mario Telò, “The Eagle's Gaze in the Opening of Heliodorus' Aethiopica,” American Journal of Philology 132, no. 4 (2011): 585. “The mention of tables and bowls as improvised weapons (cf.1.1.4) echoes and expands upon Od. 22.75-75, where Eurymachus calls his fellow suitors to arms and orders them to use tables (τράπεζαι) to ward off Odysseus’ arrows: φάσγανά τε σπάσσασθε καὶ ἀντίσχεσθετραπέζας/ ἰῶνὠκυμόρων”; Aldo Tagliabue, “Heliodorus’ Aethiopica and the Odyssean Mnesterophonia: An Intermedial Reading,” Transactions of the American Philological Association 145, no. 2 (2015): 448. “Telò, drawing on Feuillâtre, highlights the mention of tables and drinking vessels as echoes of the Odyssean episode of book 22. In both the Odyssey and the Aethiopica, tables are used as shields: see Heliod. 1.1.4: ἕτεραι [τράπεζαι] δὲἄλλουςἔκρυπτον, ὡςᾤοντο, ὑπελθόντας (“other tables were hiding those men who tried to go under them,” [Tagliabue’s] trans.) and Od. 22.74-75, with Eurymachus’s exhortation to the other suitors: ἀντίσχεσθετραπέζας/ ἰῶνὠκυμόρων (“hold the tables before you, to ward off the arrows of sudden death…” 157 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1.4. “κρατῆρες ἀνατετραμμένοι καὶ χειρῶν ἔνιοι τῶν ἐσχηκότων ἀπορρέοντες τῶν μὲν πινόντωντῶν δὲ ἀντὶ λίθων κεχρημένων·” 158 Studies have looked at surviving ancient artwork depicting the Mnesterophonia that may have inspired Heliodorus’ description. Hom., Od. 22.17-18. “ἐκλίνθη δ᾽ ἑτέρωσε, δέπας δέοἱἔκπεσε χειρὸς/ βλημένου, αὐτίκα δ᾽ αὐλὸς ἀνὰῥῖνας παχὺς ἦλθεν/ αἵματος ἀνδρο μέ οιο…”; This observation was first made by Mario Telò. See Mario Telò, “The Eagle's Gaze in the Opening of Heliodorus' Aethiopica,” American Journal of Philology 132, no. 4 (2011): 585-6. “As they zoom in on the beach, their eyes rest upon mixing bowls that have slipped from the hands of some banqueters (κρατῆρες ἀνατετραμμένοι καὶ χειρῶν ἔνιοι τῶν ἐσχη κότων ἀπορρέοντες τῶν μὲν πινόντων). The same detail occurs in the account of Antinous’ death that opens Book 22 of the Odyssey (17-18): ἐκλίνθη δ' ἑτέρωσε, δέπας δέοἱἔκπεσε χειρὸς / βλημένου (“He slumped away to one side, and out of his stricken hand fell the goblet”). Another element 28

details reinforces the scenery of the beach as a literal interpretation of Homer’s fish simile because all of these elements directly reproduce the outcome of events that occur within the Odyssey’s Mnesterophonia.

The literalization of the fish simile must be read in conjunction with other allusions to the Mnestorophonia, through the portrayal of characters. Unlike the setting, where Heliodorus uses Homeric vocabulary and imagery portrayed in many different scenes within the two epic poems, Heliodorus’ portrayal of Charicleia explicitly links her to Apollo at the point of his descent from Olympus at the beginning of the Iliad.159 The allusion is marked by two Homeric words (κινήσει and κλαγξάντων) used to describe the arrows rattling on Charicleia’s shoulders as she moves quickly,160 like Apollo’s arrows rattle on his shoulders as he descends quickly to confront the Greek soldiers on the shores of Chryse.161 Not only does Heliodorus’ paraphrased action of Apollo allude to yet another example of a Homeric scene set on a beach, it also alludes to a scene that contains a description of mass violence at the hands of a singular figure. While it is discovered throughout the novel that Charicleia’s actual position on the beach more clearly resembles Chryseis than Apollo,162 any evidence to suggest this comparison is notably absent. Instead, Charicleia is portrayed as Apollo not only as an archer,163 but also as the perpetrator of the murders.

bears out the suspicion that the pirates’ efforts to make sense of their visual perceptions draw upon this Odyssean subtext. Odysseus shoots his fatal arrow precisely at the moment when Antinous tries to pour himself a glass of wine (9-12): ἦ τοι ὁ καλὸ νἄλεισον ἀναιρήσεσθαι ἔμελλε / χρύσεον ἄμφωτον. καὶ δὴμετὰ χερσὶν ἐνώμα / ὄφρα πίοιοἴνοιο · φόνος δέοἱοὐ κἐνὶθυμῷ / μέμβλετο (“He was on the point of lifting up a fine two-handled goblet of gold, and had it in his hands, and was moving it so as to drink of the wine, and in his heart, there was no thought of death”).”; Aldo Tagliabue, “Heliodorus’ Aethiopica and the Odyssean Mnesterophonia: An Intermedial Reading,” Transactions of the American Philological Association 145, no. 2 (2015): 448. “Then, in both works drinking vessels are overturned[.]”; These details have also been compared to the artistic renditions of the Mnesterophonia. See Tagliabue’s article on Heliodorus’ invocation of Homeric artwork, which specifically observes Heliodorus’ depiction of Homer’s Mnesterophonia in comparison to surviving ancient artwork that may have inspired the description. 159 Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 354n.2. 160 Heliod., Aeth., 1.2.5. “τῶν μὲν βελῶν τῇ ἀθρόᾳ κινήσει κλαγξάντων…” 161 Hom., Il. 1.46-47. “ἔκλαγξαν δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ὀϊστοὶ ἐπ᾽ ὤμων χωομένοιο, / αὐτοῦ κινηθέντος…” 162 Situationally, Charicleia’s character undergoes notable similarities to Chryseis. Charicleia’s separation from all three of her father figures in this episode matches Chryseis’ separation from her father. Moreover, like Chryseis, two of her three fathers are priests, one even being a priest to Apollo (Heliod., Aeth., 2.29). Charicleia is also named after this father figure, whose name is Charicles (Heliod., Aeth., 2.33), which resembles Chryseis’ nominal similarity to her father, Chryses. Charicleia is also a victim of kidnapping in this scene at the hands of pirates, which causes the separation from her other father figure, Calasiris (Heliod., Aeth., 5.33). While pirates are not Homeric figures, the Greeks in Homer led by Agamemnon invade the city of Chryse by sea and kidnap Chryseis to take as a concubine, just as the pirates entrap Charicleia by sea (Heliod., Aeth., 5.22-23). (See Hom., Il. 1.1-120; esp. Hom., Il. 1.111-115). 163 Charicleia’s expertise in archery is later clarified by her surrogate father, Charicles, who complains to Calasiris that she spends all her time practicing with her bow. Heliod., Aeth., 2.33.4. “ἀπηγόρευται γὰρ αὐτῇ γάμος καὶ 29

While the bodies are wounded to various degrees and in several different manners, the narrator specifies that most of the bodies were wounded by arrows and archery.164 Since both the primary narrator and the prophet, Calchas, confirm Apollo as the perpetrator of the violence at the beginning of the Iliad,165 the fact that Charicleia is depicted performing Apollo’s action upon his descent also labels her as the culprit of murders. The link to Apollo is emphasized further by a series of descriptions that associate Charicleia with the divine, facilitated by the focalized perspective of the bandits, who mistake her for a goddess. From Charicleia’s image, they surmise that she appears larger and more godlike than themselves,166 and repeat that she is a priestess responsible for the deaths of the men, as they see her wearing a crown of laurel leaves, her robes flashing in the sunlight, with her hair like that of a bacchante.167 Since it has been observed above that the landscape of the dead suitors as fish alongside several references tie the deaths of the men to the suitors of the Mnesterophonia, the allusion to Apollo also contributes to the distinctly Odyssean setting, although it harkens back to the beginning of the Iliad. As Odysseus kills the suitors with his bow, he prays to Apollo to aid his marksmanship.168 As Odysseus succeeds immediately by killing Antinous with an arrow, 169 the text implies Apollo’s acquiescence to Odysseus’ prayer. Charicleia’s role as Odysseus within the Mnesterophonia is hinted at, therefore, through the allusion to Apollo.

Heliodorus displays Charicleia’s portrayal as the Odysseus of his episodic allusion further through her speech to the bandits. Since Charicleia mistakes the approaching bandits for the spirits of the men who were killed,170 she exclaims that the deaths were the cause of the pirates’ hubris

παρθενεύειν τὸν πάντα βίον διατείνεται καὶ τῇ Ἀρτέμιδι ζάκορον ἑαυτὴν ἐπιδοῦσα θήραις τὰ πολλὰ σχολάζει καὶ ἀσκεῖ τοξείαν.” 164 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1.5. “Ἔκειντο δὲ ὁ μὲν πελέκει τετρωμένος, ὁ δὲ κάχληκι βεβλημένος αὐτόθεν ἀπὸ τῆς ῥαχίας πεπορισμένῳ, ἕτερος ξύλῳ κατεαγώς, ὁ δὲ δαλῷ κατάφλεκτος, καὶ ἄλλος ἄλλως, οἱ δὲ πλεῖστοι βελῶν ἔργον καὶ τοξείας γεγενημένοι.” 165 Hom., Il. 1.43-47, 74-100. 166 Heliod., Aeth., 1.2.5. “μεῖζον γάρ τι καὶ θειότερον αὐτοῖς ὀρθωθεῖσα ἔδοξε…” 167 Heliod., Aeth., 1.2.6 “οἱ μὲν γὰρ θεόν τινα ἔλεγον, καὶ θεὸν Ἄρτεμιν ἢ τὴν ἐγχώριον Ἶσιν, οἱδὲ ἱέρειαν ὑπό του θεῶν ἐκμεμηνυῖαν καὶ τὸν ὁρώμενον πολὺν φόνον ἐργασαμένην.”; 1.2.2. “Δάφνῃ τὴν κεφαλὴν ἔστεπτο…”; 1.2.5. “χρυσοϋφοῦς δὲ τῆς ἐσθῆτος πρὸς τὸν ἥλιον ἀνταυγαζούσης…τῆς κόμης ὑπὸ τῷ στεφάνῳ βακχεῖον σοβουμένης καὶ τοῖς νώτοις πλεῖστον ὅσον ἐπιτρεχούσης.” 168 Hom., Od. 22.5-7. 169 Hom., Od. 22.8-21. 170 Heliod., Aeth., 1.3.1. “‘εἰ μὲν εἴδωλα τῶν κειμένων ἐστέ,’ φησίν ‘οὐκ ἐν δίκῃ παρενοχλεῖτε ἡμῖν· οἱ μὲν γὰρ πλεῖστοι χερσὶ ταῖς ἀλλήλων ἀνῄρησθε, ὅσοι δὲ πρὸς ἡμῶν, ἀμύνης νόμῳ καὶ ἐκδικίας τῆς εἰς σωφροσύνην ὕβρεως πεπόνθατε· εἰ δέ τινες τῶν ζώντων ἐστέ, λῃστρικὸς μὲν ὑμῖν ὡς ἔοικεν ὁ βίος, εἰς καιρὸν δὲ ἥκετε· λύσατε τῶν περιεστηκότων ἀλγεινῶν φόνῳ τῷ καθ´ ἡμῶν δρᾶμα τὸ περὶ ἡμᾶς καταστρέψαντες.’” 30

against her chastity, which parallels Odysseus’ speech in the Mnesterophonia, in which he lists the breaches of xenia perpetrated by the suitors in his absence.171 Even though the suitors’ crimes against Odysseus revolve more strongly around their personal slight against him and his role as the leader of his household, the transgression of female virtue is also at stake, as the suitors raped Odysseus’ female slaves,172 in addition to their courtship of his wife, while he still lived.173 Both of these speeches highlight the intrinsic ties between a female’s virtue and the sanctity of her body, both leading to the violence depicted.

The accumulation of allusive markers placed within the setting and the depiction of character and character interaction portrays the entire episode as a recreation of the Mnesterophonia. Heliodorus’ use of paraphrased Homeric vocabulary is particularly noticeable in the setting of his opening scene, which is further cemented by Charicleia’s clear involvement in the violence. The presence of the Iliad in this scene is notable in the setting and the application of character as both are notably invoked to emphasize aspects of the Mnesterophonia, rather than to draw on Iliadic themes. By using Iliadic undertones superimposed over Odyssean allusion, Heliodorus applies the allusions as a figurative replacement of the directly compared scene, which deepens the allusive layers. As a result of Heliodorus’ layering techniques, the textual material from the beginning of the Iliad helps to turn the Mnesterophonia into an in medias res beginning that incorporates stylistic elements from both the beginning of the Iliad and the beginning of the Odyssey at the same time, in order to depict characters performing Homeric roles in Homeric settings, which together form allusive episodes.

2.2 The Bandit Camp as the Telemachy

Even though the novel’s first episode alludes to the Mnesterophonia, the opening lines depict a geographical setting that combines three spaces from the beginning of the Odyssey. Heliodorus sets his opening scene as an allusion to several beach scenes from Homer. The description of the sunrise, the perspective of the bandits looking down from the hill, followed by a complex exchange of hospitality all draw comparisons to the Telemachy. Moreover, since

171 Hom., Od. 22.35-41. “ὦ κύνες, οὔ μ᾽ ἔτ᾽ ἐφάσκεθ᾽ ὑπότροπον οἴκαδ᾽ ἱκέσθαι/ δήμου ἄπο Τρώων, ὅτιμοι κατεκείρετεοἶκον, / δμῳῇσινδὲγυναιξὶ παρευνάζεσθε βιαίως,/ αὐτοῦτεζώοντος ὑπεμνάασθε γυναῖκα,/ οὔτεθεοὺςδείσαντες, οἳοὐρανὸν εὐρὺνἔχουσιν, / οὔτετιν᾽ ἀνθρώπων νέμεσιν κατόπισθεν ἔσεσθαι:/ νῦνὑμῖν καὶ πᾶσινὀλέθρου πείρατ᾽ ἐφῆπται.” 172 Hom., Od. 22.37. “δμῳῇσιν δὲ γυναιξὶ παρευνάζεσθε βιαίως…” 173 Hom., Od. 22.38. “αὐτ οῦτε ζώοντος ὑπεμνάασθε γυναῖκα…” 31

Heliodorus places these allusions at the beginning of the opening scene of his novel, he also places the scene in which the allusions occur in the same section of the text as the Homeric characters to whom Heliodorus alludes. Thus, the reconfiguration of seemingly separate elements may be recognized together as an allusive environment that duplicates the thematic portrayal of hosting and the setting within which it occurs in the same extra-diegetic space as the Odyssey’s most similar scene.

The setting of the first scene depicted in the Aethiopica shares elements with the setting of the Telemachy. The description of the rising sun and mountains that begin the novel conflates the two opening settings of the Telemachy to introduce the text.174 The description of the sun rising into the sky is accompanied by the anthropomorphic portrayal of the δαίμων, Hemera.175 While Homer frequently describes the sun rising with the following epithet: “ἦμος δ’ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος Ἠώς...”,176 Heliodorus moves away from a comparison to Eos by using Hemera instead. The replacement of Eos with Hemera is particularly noticeable because of Heliodorus’ later quotation of the Eos epithet,177 which emphasizes the intentionality in his choice to replace Eos with Hemera at the beginning of the Aethiopica. As mentioned in my previous chapter, the only passage of the Odyssey that opens with a rising sun without the figure of Eos depicts Telemachus’ arrival at Pylos in the second book, whereas the mountains of Heliodorus’ beach resemble the hilly terrain of Telemachus’ arrival at Lacedaemon.178 The omission of Eos implies a distancing from the common epithet, yet the personification of Hemera indicates a Homeric influence on the scene, which therefore encourages the connection between the sunrise and other possible sunrises in Homer. Moreover, the description of the bandits looking down on the opening scene179 resembles the way in which Homer describes the coiling hollow of Lacedaemon in the fourth book of the Odyssey, as noted above.180 The implication of the downward gaze due to the perspective of characters on an uneven terrain recreates the same narrative parallel between the

174 See above, 22. 175 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1.1. “Ἡμέρας ἄρτι διαγελώσης καὶ ἡλίου τὰς ἀκρωρείας καταυγάζοντος…” 176 Hom., Il. 1.477, 6.175, 9.707, 24.788, 23.109; Od. 2.1, 3.404, 3.491, 4.306, 4.431, 4.576, 5.121, 5.228, 8.1, 9.152, 9.170, 9.307, 9.437, 9.560, 10.187, 12.316, 12.8, 13.18, 15.189, 17.1, 19.428, 23.241. 177 Heliod., Aeth., 3.4. “Ἦμος δ´ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος ἠώς - Ὅμηρος ἂνεἶπεν…”; See Tim Whitmarsh, “Heliodorus Smiles,” Metaphor and the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 4, ed. S. J. Harrison, Stephen Harrison, Michael Paschalis, Stavros A. Frangoulidis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2005), 96-97. 178 See above, 22. 179 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1. 180 Hom., Od. 4.1-2. See above, 22. 32

two scenes. Therefore, Heliodorus places his characters in a described environment that resembles the natural scenery in Homer’s depiction of the Telemachy.

The model of the ideal host trope acts as the main allusive marker to the Telemachy. Heliodorus’ allusion to the Telemachy episode does not occur until Thyamis and his bandits take Charicleia and the wounded Theagenes as prisoners from the beach to the bandit camp.181 Unlike the setting of the beach in the opening scene, the bandit camp of the Aethiopica corresponds with no Homeric space, yet the entrapment that the camp represents reproduces the comparative treatment of the host established in the Odyssey by Nestor and Menelaus. The relationships between the characters reinforce this theme of entrapment as Charicleia and Theagenes encounter two different hosts with two different hosting styles. The trope of the host ranges from the monstrous perversion of hosting enacted by the Cyclops, Polyphemus, who openly rejects the etiquette of xenia by literally consuming the men in his care182 to the detaining models of Nestor and Calypso,183 who arrest Telemachus and Odysseus respectively against their will to the ideal example of Menelaus, who releases Telemachus at his request and answers any question Telemachus asks. The presentation of these hosts establishes a well-rounded interpretive system of association, revolving explicitly around the action of detainment. Since Thyamis detains Charicleia and Theagenes against their will, Heliodorus portrays his characters according to the models communicated by Homer’s typological bad host. Cnemon, on the other hand, is identified as a good host, not only because he aids the protagonists in their escape of the bandit camp, but he also takes care of their physical health and answers their request for his story by telling it. As argued in my previous chapter, the way in which Cnemon retells his story, which exists in the novel as a variation of the main narrative and as the antithesis of those to whom he relates his narrative,184 ties him not only to the trope of a good host, but directly to Menelaus himself.185 Heliodorus’ recreation of the hosting trope as a thematic link to the same interplay that occurs in the Odyssey reinforces the subtle allusions of the setting that open the novel. Since the text portrays the hosting roles and the comparable settings in the same section of text that also corresponds to Homer’s placement of the Telemachy, the similarities between these two episodes may be

181 Heliod., Aeth., 1.4. 182 See below, 57. 183 Homer, Od. 3.343-385; 5.97-150. 184 See above, 35. 185 See above, 38. 33

understood as an intentional series of allusions. Moreover, the placement of Cnemon’s narrative, which reflects elements of the main narrative186 in addition to representing his role as a good host,187 prepares the reader for the second embedded narrative and establishes a pattern for emulation that permeates the rest of the novel. Similarly, the examples of hosting may also be compared to the hosting of Nausicles, who also represents a model of an ideal host.188 Thus, Heliodorus alludes to the Telemachy in a passage where the protagonists are captive, and the trope of hosting is extended further through Cnemon’s interaction with Nausicles upon his arrival at Chemmis.

2.3 Nausicles’ House as Alcinous’ Palace

Cnemon’s journey to Chemmis from the bandit camp offers another episodic emulation of the Odyssey. Heliodorus’ scene depicts Cnemon’s transition from the location of a cave, past a body of water, to a wooded area before entering a populated city, which follows the exact order of Odysseus’ travel between Ogygia and Scheria.189 Upon leaving the cave of the bandit camp, Cnemon travels from the wilderness to the safety of a merchant’s household.190 At various points of Cnemon’s journey, the specific settings replicate descriptions comparable to the setting of Odysseus’ travels. Cnemon begins this journey at the mouth of a cave,191 which resembles the cave of Calypso on Ogygia.192 During the transition, both Cnemon and Odysseus cross a body of water (λίμνη).193 The next transition of setting takes Cnemon to a thick wooded area,194 that matches the area Odysseus walks into before he falls asleep on Scheria.195 Since Heliodorus portrays the changes in the setting of Cnemon’s journey in the same order as Odysseus’ journey, he emphasizes the same extra-diegetic location the two scenes share, located between the two

186 See above, 31. 187 Heliod., Aeth., 1.8-9. 188 Nausicles’ role as an ideal host is exemplified primarily by Calasiris’ quotation to Menelaus. See Heliod., Aeth., 6.7. 189 Hom., Od. 5.264-7.232. 190 Heliod., Aeth., 2.18-22. 191 Heliod., Aeth., 2.18.1. “…ἐπὶ τὸ στόμιον τοῦ σπηλαίου…” 192 Hom., Od. 5.194. “ἷξον δὲ σπεῖος γλαφυρὸν θεὸς ἠδὲ καὶ ἀνήρ…” 193 Heliod., Aeth., 2.18.5. “ἀπέχειν δὲ περαιωθεῖσι τὴν λίμνην στάδια οὐ πολλῷ λειπόμενα τῶν ἑκατόν·”; Hom., Od. 5.282-425. For the use of λίμνη, see Hom., Od. 5.337. 194 Heliod., Aeth., 2.19. “ὡς δὲ εἰς ἔθος τὸν Αἰγύπτιον ἐνεβίβασεν, ἔλαθε τὸ τελευταῖον ἐναπομείνας καὶ πρὸς τὰ χαλεπώτερα τοῦ δάσους κατὰ τοῦ πρανοῦς ἑαυτὸν ὡς εἶχε τάχους ἐπαφεὶς διεδίδρασκε.” 195 Hom., Od. 5.475-476. “βῆ ῥ᾽ ἴμεν εἰς ὕλην: τὴν δὲ σχεδὸν ὕδατος εὗρεν/ ἐν περιφαινομένῳ…” 34

secondary narrations of the novel. Thus, Heliodorus plays with the difference between diegetic and extra-diegetic locations within his novel as a significant allusive link to the Odyssey.

Within Heliodorus’ allusive diegetic and extra-diegetic settings, the author also portrays Cnemon as Odysseus through his actions and reactions to the antagonistic figure of Thermouthis. By lying to the bandit about his reaction to the milk they had stolen, Cnemon successfully eludes the close watch of Thermouthis and is able to escape from him.196 This deception bears a distinct functional resemblance to the deception of Odysseus, who eludes Poseidon’s wrath by shedding his clothes and wrapping himself in the veil (κρήδεμνον) of a sea goddess, Leucothea, which protected him from harm.197 Following Cnemon’s deception of Thermouthis, Cnemon runs away from the bandit as if being pursued. Even though Heliodorus portrays Thermouthis dying from a snakebite during the night,198 he depicts this scene as a substitution for Odysseus’ arrival on land, outside of Poseidon’s control.199 The similarities between these two sequences, however, become most apparent when Cnemon falls asleep under a bed of leaves once it becomes dark,200 as Odysseus sleeps under bushes and leaves.201 Despite Heliodorus’ manipulation of the factors contextualizing Cnemon’s escape, he nevertheless depicts Cnemon performing the precise actions in the same order as Odysseus in this sequence. Since Heliodorus changes Cnemon’s antagonist from a god to a mortal and emphasizes Cnemon’s fear of Thermouthis, Heliodorus uses the actions of Odysseus’ escape from Poseidon as an exposition of Cnemon’s cowardice.

Cnemon’s presentation as Odysseus continues in his return to civilized society and the taming of his physical appearance that coincides with his arrival at Chemmis. While Cnemon’s change simply involves a haircut,202 this change echoes Odysseus’ physical change made by Nausicaa, who helps him change from his wild nakedness until he is radiant with grace and beauty, aided in part by Athena.203 It is only after Cnemon transfigures his appearance physically that he meets Calasiris and re-enters civilized society. The meeting between Cnemon and Calasiris

196 Heliod., Aeth., 2.19.6. “ῥυίσκεσθαι χαλεπῶς ἐκ τοῦ γάλακτος ἔλεγεν ὁ Κνήμων, προφθάνειν δὲ τὸν Θέρμουθιν παρεκελεύετο αὐτὸς δὲ ἐπικαταλήψεσθαι.” 197 Hom., Od. 5.333-375. 198 Heliod., Aeth., 2.20. 199 Hom., Od. 5.424-5.464. 200 Heliod., Aeth., 2.20. 201 Hom., Od. 5.476-487. 202 Heliod., Aeth., 2.20-21. 203 Hom., Od. 6.135-235. 35

relieves Cnemon of his temporary role as Odysseus, which is indicated by Calasiris’ quotation of the Odyssey, “Ἰλιόθεν με φέρεις…” In an attempt to summarize his adventures, Calasiris describes his narrative as being carried from Troy.204 This quotation remains one example of the few direct quotes to Odyssean scenes that relate to the same extra-diegetic moment in the novel. As the speaker of this quotation, Calasiris steps into the role of Odysseus and as the one who listens to the quotation, Cnemon therefore begins his listening role more comparable to that of Alcinous. The two men are welcomed warmly into the household of Nausicles by his daughter, Nausicleia.205 The absence of Nausicles in this scene and the welcome of Nausicles’ unmarried daughter recalls Odysseus’ encounter with Nausicaa before meeting Alcinous.206 Instead of focusing on Cnemon’s welcome, Heliodorus describes how Nausicleia welcomes Calasiris, who receives a footbath, a more comfortable couch, a jug of water provided, a fire lit, and bread and fruit.207 Likewise, Odysseus’ welcome to Alcinous’ court includes being washed and fed.208 The transition of Odyssean imagery from Cnemon to Calasiris masks the allusive elements that develop the Homeric episode, although it succeeds in remaining recognizable through the order of both Cnemon’s travels and the hospitality Nausicles’ household shows Calasiris. Moreover, Calasiris’ quotation of Odysseus punctuates other noticeable elements of the text that allude to Odysseus’ arrival on Scheria, such as Cnemon sleeping under leaves and the welcome of Nausicleia, whose name bears a clear resemblance to the Odyssean Nausicaa. Not only does this quotation represent the first one of its kind that alludes directly to the Odyssean scene it is emulating, but it has been identified as the first example of Homeric language taken exclusively from the Odyssey.209 As a result, the occurrence of this quotation must be recognized as a definitive marker that confirms the other

204 Heliod., Aeth., 2.21. This phrase alludes to Hom., Od. 9.39. “Ἰλιόθεν με φέρων ἄνεμος Κικόνεσσι πέλασσεν…” 205 Heliod., Aeth., 2.22. 206 See Hom., Od. 6.15-7.316. 207 Heliod., Aeth., 2.22.2. “Καὶ ἡ μέν τις ἀπένιζε τὼ πόδε καὶ τῆς κόνεως ἠλευθέρου τὰ ὑπὸ κνήμην, ἡ δὲ ἐφρόντιζε τῆς εὐνῆς καὶ μαλακὴν ηὐτρέπιζε τὴν κατάκλισιν, ἑτέρα κάλπην ἔφερε καὶ πῦρ ἀνέκαιε καὶ ἄλλη τράπεζαν εἰσεφέρετο ἄρτου τε πυρίνου καὶ ὡραίων παντοίων βρίθουσαν.”; The romance of these moments have been heavily analyzed, and have been labelled as a societal test for Odysseus to overcome in order to return to his wife, Penelope. It is therefore notable that Cnemon eventually marries Nausicleia, since he represents a version of Odysseus untethered by marital obligation. I will explore this point further in my third chapter. See, Nicholas P Gross, “Nausicaa: A Feminine Threat,” The Classical World 69, no. 5 (1976): 311-317. 208 Hom., Od. 7.172-177. “χέρνιβα δ᾽ ἀμφίπολος προχόῳ ἐπέχευε φέρουσα/ καλῇ χρυσείῃ ὑπὲρ ἀργυρέοιο λέβητος, / νίψασθαι: παρὰ δὲ ξεστὴν ἐτάνυσσε τράπεζαν. / σῖτον δ᾽ αἰδοίη ταμίη παρέθηκε φέρουσα,/ εἴδατα πόλλ᾽ ἐπιθεῖσα, χαριζομένη παρεόντων./ αὐτὰρ ὁ πῖνε καὶ ἦσθε πολύτλας δῖος Ὀδυσσεύς.” 209 As noted by Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 374n.48. 36

allusive elements present within Heliodorus’ imagery because it represents an anomaly in his previous descriptive emulations of Homeric material.

2.4 The Procession in Honour of Neoptolemus and the Pythian Games as the Phaeacian Games

While Cnemon and Calasiris enjoy the hospitality of Nausicles’ household, Heliodorus extends Calasiris’ role of Odysseus as he begins his secondary narrative. Heliodorus’ portrayal of Calasiris’ retelling within a hospitality setting is linked directly to the hospitality exhibited on Scheria for Odysseus. Heliodorus’ depiction of the procession and subsequent games at the beginning of Calasiris’ account, however, allude more closely to scenes depicted before Odysseus begins the stories of his adventures. Even though the episode has shifted into Calasiris’ embedded narrative, the episode remains in the same order as the episodes in the Odyssey, between the hospitality scene and the tricking scenes that occur later in the novel.210 The allusions that surround the beginning of the embedded account produce a general Homeric impression, rather than expressing a specific correlation. The descriptions link to at least two Homeric passages that are repeated throughout the two epics.211 The fact that Heliodorus places such vague allusions in the scene of the procession indicates how distant the scene is from any other alluding episode within the novel. Instead, the absence of Homeric allusions is compensated by with tropes from the traditions of the novel, as the procession depicts Theagenes and Charicleia’s first meeting, which portrays a “love at first sight” trope identifiable in other ancient novels.212 In the same scene, Heliodorus describes Theagenes holding an ash wood spear,213 an evocation of the spear only Achilles can wield.214 By emphasizing Theagenes’ Achillean strength, Heliodorus introduces another novelistic trope alongside the meeting, which identifies the male hero as a version of

210 See below, 51-54; 56-59. 211 The first passage depicts Thessalian maidens are described with girdled waists, Heliod., Aeth., 3.2. Most noticeably, the Thessalian maidens are described as “ταῖς παρθένοις,” which may refer to Athena’s influence on Nausicaa in the Odyssey. These allusions refer to several passages in Homer that describe women in a similar way. See, Hom., Il. 9.594; Od. 3.154; The second passage refers to the popular epithet of Eos, which was mentioned above in more detail. Heliod., Aeth., 3.4. “Ἦμος δ´ ἠριγένεια φάνη ῥοδοδάκτυλος ἠώς - Ὅμηρος ἂν εἶπεν”; Hom., Il. 1.477, 24.788; cf. 6.175, 9.707, 23.109; Od. 2.1, 3.404, 3.491, 4.306, 4.431, 4.576, 5.228, 8.1, 9.152, 9.170, 9.307, 9.437, 9.560, 10.187, 12.8, 12.316, 13.18, 15.189, 17.1, 19.428. 212 Alain Billault, “Characterization in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 116; Renate Johne, “Women in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 158, 195, 204-205; David Konstan, Sexual Symmetry: Love in the Ancient Novel and Related Genres, (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 161. 213 Heliod., Aeth., 3.3. 214 Hom., Il. 16.140-145 37

Achilles.215 As a result, it may be more prudent to examine the scene as a substitution for Odysseus and Nausicaa’s meeting, although, as with the other scenes, Heliodorus’ scene retains the same core action of the sequence as its Odyssean counterpart, the depiction of a meeting. Within that context, however, Heliodorus includes at least one other Odyssean element comparable to the procession. Charicleia is introduced to the scene while riding in a chariot,216 rather than on foot, which may link the procession to Nausicaa’s return home by two mules.217 The combination of the meeting, the portrayal of Charicleia on a chariot, the introduction of Theagenes as an epic heroic figure all indicate an allusive link to the interaction of Odysseus and Nausicaa’s meeting, but the element that confirms the allusive episode is the extra-diegetic location of the procession. Since the scene occurs directly after the hosting scene between Calasiris and Nausicleia and before the description of the Pythian games, the allusive details within the procession are confirmed by the location of the scene within the Odyssean structure of the novel.

The procession quickly transitions into the Pythian games, which displays much more overt allusions to the Phaeacian games episode of the Odyssey. The characters’ relationships to Delphi aid in the recognition of this episode. Although Charicles confirms in an earlier passage that Charicleia is not a native Greek,218 he emphasizes her mastery of the Greek language and Greek values of female chastity and religion.219 Therefore, because of Charicleia’s role in the procession in honour of Neoptolemos and her activity in the priestly communities of Delphi,220 the text portrays her distinctly as an integrated member of the religious Pythian social environment. Theagenes, on the other hand, is described as a stranger to the city of Delphi, just as Odysseus is described on Scheria. Theagenes is visiting the city to honour the burial site of his ancestor,221 Neoptolemus. An earlier comparison had already been made between Theagenes and Achilles’

215 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 80 n.174, 118-124, 143, 146, 239. 216 Heliod., Aeth., 3.4. 217 Hom., Od. 6.316-320. “ὣς ἄρα φωνήσασ᾽ ἵμασεν μάστιγι φαεινῇ/ ἡμιόνους: αἱ δ᾽ ὦκα λίπον ποταμοῖο ῥέεθρα. / αἱ δ᾽ ἐὺ μὲν τρώχων, ἐὺ δὲ πλίσσοντο πόδεσσιν:/ ἡ δὲ μάλ᾽ ἡνιόχευεν, ὅπως ἅμ᾽ ἑποίατο πεζοὶ/ ἀμφίπολοί τ᾽ Ὀδυσεύς τε, νόῳ δ᾽ ἐπέβαλλεν ἱμάσθλην.” 218 Heliod., Aeth., 2.32-33. 219 Heliod., Aeth., 2.33. Later in the novel, when Calasiris discovers Charicleia’s true identity as a princess of Ethiopia, she is also comparable to Nausicaa as a foreign princess figure, however, this information is only accessible in retrospect. 220 Heliod., Aeth., 2.35. 221 Heliod., Aeth., 2.34. Morgan notes that the novel follows Euripides’ Andromache. See, Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 407n.72. 38

appearances, and it is further underscored by this lineage.222 Theagenes’ Achillean strength ironically helps him perform Odyssean acts in his participation in the Pythian games. Just like Odysseus’ prowess in the Phaeacian games, Theagenes excels in the games. Due to his descent from Achilles, who was described as a swift runner,223 Theagenes excels in the one sport that Odysseus lacks confidence, the footrace.224 As the Pythian games occur in Delphi, Heliodorus also draws on the centrality of the setting in Greece to convey the next episode of allusions to the Odyssey.

2.5 The Escape from Delphi as the Cyclopeia

Throughout the depiction of the scenes in Delphi, Calasiris outlines a construction of traits that legitimize him as a wise figure because of his Egyptian origins, compared to the Greek characters. The constructed cultural values that Heliodorus instills in his depiction of countries in the novel mirrors a discourse Homer establishes between Odysseus and his victims of trickery, ironically, because of his Greek origin. Heliodorus disperses hints of this reversal between Greek and foreign cultural knowledge in various ways. While Calasiris depicts Delphi positively, he repeatedly refers to the superiority of Egyptian cultural knowledge and wisdom over that of the Greeks.225 The superiority of this Egyptian wisdom is eclipsed only by Ethiopian wisdom, asserted by Calasiris.226 Through the establishment of these cultural identities, Heliodorus is able to recreate the same relationship between Calasiris and Charicles that Homer creates between Odysseus and Polyphemus. The main conflict between Odysseus and Polyphemus is displayed as a deviated portrayal of hospitality.227 Polyphemus’ portrayal of hospitality is heavily qualified by his

222 Heliod., Aeth., 2.34-5. See Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 143-144. As Meriel Jones also notes, the flaws that are ascribed to both Achilles and Odysseus are not at all present in Theagenes’ character, as mentioned by Calasiris, and as such, Theagenes represents even more of a heroic ideal than both Achilles and Odysseus. 223 Hom., Il.1.121, 2.688. 224 Hom., Od. 8.230-231. “οἴοισιν δείδοικα ποσὶν μή τίς με παρέλθῃ/ Φαιήκων…”; Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 143. However, in Book 23 of the Iliad, Odysseus wins the footrace at Patroclus’ funerary games. 225 Heliod., Aeth., 2.22; 2.27; 2.33; 2.34; 3.11; 3.13-14; 3.15; 3.16. See also, Tim Whitmarsh, “The Writes of Passage: Cultural Initiation in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Constructing Identities in Late Antiquity, ed. Richard Miles, (London: Routledge, 1999), 24. 226 Heliod., Aeth., 4.12. 227 Instead of feeding his guests, as Telemachus is fed by Menelaus and Nestor, Polyphemus instead eats Odysseus’ men. Hom., Od. 9.288-293, 310-311, 344-345; Instead of accepting strangers in honour of Zeus, the cyclops denounces 39

ignorance of Greek cultural norms. The cyclops denounces Zeus because he believes the race of cyclopes to be superior to the gods.228 Polyphemus’ ignorance is further portrayed by how Odysseus tricks him into drinking undiluted wine. Since ancient Greek wine was very strong, it was often diluted with water.229 As Polyphemus is unfamiliar with the Greek practice, he drinks the wine without diluting it. Thus, Homer presents Odysseus’ superior knowledge of Greek culture as a method for fooling the ignorant cyclops. Heliodorus’ depiction of Calasiris and Charicles may be understood as a reversal of Odysseus and Polyphemus, since Calasiris, who enters Delphi as an outsider, possesses foreign wisdom that he uses to take advantage of the Pythian priest’s ignorance.

Heliodorus extends the comparison between Calasiris and Charicles as a reversal of Odysseus and Polyphemus by depicting tricks on Charicles as a way to figuratively blind him, just as Odysseus literally blinded Polyphemus. Heliodorus has already presented examples of literalizing Homeric text, but he transforms literal and vivid depictions of this Homeric passage into metaphors of ignorance using language of blindness, which evokes the literal blindness of Polyphemus. Calasiris, alongside Charicleia, assures Charicles that Charicleia is in love with her betrothed, Alcamenes.230 This news distracts Charicles from discovering Calasiris’ plot to help Charicleia run away.231 Calasiris gains Charicles’ confidence and uses this trust to trick him with a false interpretation of his premonitory dream and refutes several of his claims.232 The result of this trickery is instrumental in Charicleia’s escape because Calasiris quashes Charicles’ own methods of interpretation that would have allowed him to identify the scheme. Calasiris also lies to Charicles after Charicleia has disappeared, citing Theagenes as the perpetrator, but omitting his own involvement with the scheme.233 Calasiris uses this final moment to expound on Charicles’

the god. 9.275-280; all while detaining Odysseus and his men without letting them leave by closing the cave with a large stone. 9.240-243. 228 Hom., Od. 9.275-276. “οὐ γὰρ Κύκλωπες Διὸς αἰγιόχου ἀλέγουσιν/ οὐδὲ θεῶν μακάρων, ἐπεὶ ἦ πολὺ φέρτεροί εἰμεν:” 229 Rod Phillips, “Greece and Rome: The Superiority of Wine,” Alcohol: A History, (Chapel Hill: The University of North Carolina Press, 2014), 29-30. 230 Heliod., Aeth., 4.13-15. 231 Heliod., Aeth., 4.15.3-4. “Καὶ τἄλλα δέσοι τὰ πρὸς τὴν πανήγυριν εὐτρεπιστέον, συνέχειν γὰρ δεήσει τοὺς γάμους ἕως τὸ κατηναγκασμένον τῆς ἐπιθυμίας ἀμετάβλητον ἔχει παρὰ τῆς τέχνης ἡ κόρη.’ ‘Μηδὲν ἀπολείπεσθαι νόμιζε τῶν ἐπ´ ἐμοί’ φήσας ὁ Χαρικλῆς ἀπέτρεχεν, ἔργον ἀποφῆναι τοὺς λόγους ὑφ´ ἡδονῆς ἐπειγόμενος. Καὶ ἔπραξέ γε, ὡς ὕστερον ἔγνων, ἅπερ ὑπεθέμην οὐδὲν ὑπερθέμενος, ἐσθῆτά τε ἄλλην πολύτιμον καὶ δὴ καὶ τοὺς ὅρμους τοὺς Αἰθιοπικοὺς τοὺς συνεκτεθέντας ὑπὸ τῆς Περσίννης εἰς γνωρίσματα τῇ Χαρικλείᾳ ὡς ἕδνα δῆθεν παρὰ τοῦ Ἀλκαμένους προσκομίσας.” 232 Heliod., Aeth., 4.5-8. See esp. 4.7, 4.15. 233 Heliod., Aeth., 4.19-21. 40

inability to interpret Theagenes’ true character, citing the priest’s earlier comments of Theagenes’ goodness as proof of the priest’s lack of wisdom.234 Calasiris declares the true identity of Charicleia’s kidnapper, just as Odysseus reveals his true name to Polyphemus in a moment of vanity.235 The purpose of Calasiris’ trickery discredits Charicles’ ability to understand the events around him clearly, which therefore, metaphorically blind him from seeing how he is being deceived.

Charicles becomes more convinced by Calasiris’ lies and therefore less reliant on his own judgement. In this way, Calasiris’ lies echo the way Odysseus weaponizes his superior cultural knowledge against Polyphemus in the Odyssey,236 where he uses Polyphemus’ distraction to successfully blind the cyclops.237 Charicles’ blindness to Calasiris’ plot for the escape of Charicleia and Theagenes hidden in a crowd of his Thessalian men238 rewrites the escape of Odysseus from the blinded Cyclops’ cave. In the Odyssey, Odysseus and his men hide under the bellies of Polyphemus’ sheep to escape undetected.239 Again, Heliodorus portrays an episode not only in a playful interaction with a Homeric setting, since Delphi represents an ironic reversal of the island of the Cyclopes due to its centrality to the Mediterranean, while the remoteness and wilderness of Polyphemus’ island stands at the margins of the civilized world. Through Calasiris’ establishment of superior Egyptian wisdom, Heliodorus recreates the superiority of civilization over rusticity Homer depicts between Odysseus and Polyphemus. Thus, Heliodorus develops another interpretation of a Homeric Odyssean episode that interacts and plays with the literal and figurative portrayals of alluded material to achieve the correlations to the Cyclopeia.

2.6 Three different versions of the Nekyia

Heliodorus continues to play with literal and figurative interpretations of the Odyssey in his three novelistic interpretations of Homer’s Nekyia scene. The settings of the Nekyia in

234 Heliod., Aeth., 4.19.4. “‘Ὁ Θετταλὸς,’ ἔφην ‘καὶ παρὰ σοὶ θαυμαστός, ὃν κἀμοὶ φίλον εἰσεποίεις, Θεαγένης ἐστὶ καὶ οἱ σὺν αὐτῷ μείρακες· οὔκουν εὕροις ἄν τινα τούτων κατὰ τὴν πόλιν οἳ μέχρι τῆσδε τῆς ἑσπέρας ἐπεχωρίαζον, ὥστε ἀνίστασο καὶ εἰς βουλὴν κάλει τὸν δῆμον.’” 235 Hom., Od. 9.502-505. “Κύκλωψ, αἴ κέν τίς σε καταθνητῶν ἀνθρώπων/ ὀφθαλμοῦ εἴρηται ἀεικελίην ἀλαωτύν, / φάσθαι Ὀδυσσῆα πτολιπόρθιον ἐξαλαῶσαι, / υἱὸν Λαέρτεω, Ἰθάκῃ ἔνι οἰκί᾽ ἔχοντα.” 236 Hom., Od. 9.345-374. 237 Hom., Od. 9. 375-390. The metaphor of vision and blindness for knowledge and ignorance was largely developed in classical tragedy and philosophy. See, Chiara Thumiger, “Vision and Knowledge in Greek Tragedy,” Helios 40 (2013): 223-245. 238 Heliod., Aeth., 4.16-18. 239 Hom., Od. 9.425-461. 41

Heliodorus’ novel portrays the original interaction in two different ways. One description bears the closest resemblance to the Nekyia in the Odyssey,240 which summons dead characters to the living through a necromantic ritual.241 The other two instances portray the Nekyia as a dead figure visiting a living character in a dream.242 All three of these episodic allusions to this central Homeric scene contain a prophecy that follows the format of Tiresias’ prophecy to Odysseus, while also remaining central to the listening characters’ journey. These prophetic speeches each contain an explanation of past events, especially regarding a previously unexplained antagonistic force, and a prediction that is sometimes conditioned by the actions of the hero. The nekyia scenes in the Aethiopica are therefore recognizable by the components that build the main prophetic form of explanation of past events combined with a prediction of future action.

The Nekyia that occurs at Bessa presents the most similar reinterpretation of the Odyssey. Through a necromantic ritual that contains a prophecy, a corpse predicts the protagonists’ future, imparting information essential to their journey. The old woman of Bessa pours libations of honey, milk, and wine into a pit,243 before spilling her own blood into the fire while whispering incantations.244 These actions animate the corpse of the woman’s son, who proceeds to divine Charicleia’s future. The ritual shows the same offerings as the one used by Odysseus. However, as the scene is one of magic, she adds her own blood to animate her dead son who proceeds to prophesies about Charicleia and Calasiris in the same fashion used by Tiresias: 245 he begins by listing the transgressions of the listener,246 followed by a prediction,247 which is usually embedded

240 Hom., Od. 11. 30-150. 241 Heliod., Aeth., 6.14. 242 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22; 8.11. 243 Heliod., Aeth., 6.14.3. “μέσον ἀμφοῖν τὸν νεκρὸν τοῦ παιδὸς προθεμένη κρατῆρά τε ὀστρακοῦν ἔκ τινος παρακειμένου τρίποδος ἀνελομένη μέλιτος ἐπέχει τῷ βόθρῳ καὶ αὖθις ἐξ ἑτέρου γάλακτος, καὶ οἶνον ἐκ τρίτων ἐπέσπενδεν·” 244 Heliod., Aeth., 6.14.3-4. “εἶτα πέμμα στεάτινον εἰς ἀνδρὸς μίμημα πεπλασμένον δάφνῃ καὶ μαράθῳ καταστέψασα εἰς τὸν βόθρον ἐν έβαλλεν. Ἐφ´ ἅπασι δὲ ξίφος ἀνελομένη καὶ πρὸς τὸ ἐνθουσιῶδες σοβηθεῖσα καὶ πολλὰ πρὸς τὴν σεληναίαν βαρβάροις τε καὶ ξενίζουσι τὴν ἀκοὴν ὀνόμασι κατευξαμένη τὸν βραχίονα ἐντεμοῦσα καὶ δάφνης ἀκρέμονι τοῦ αἵματος ἀποψήσασα τὴν πυρκαϊὰν ἐπεψέκαζεν, ἄλλα τε ἄττα τερατευσαμένη πρὸς τούτοις ἐπὶ τὸν νεκρὸν τοῦ παιδὸς προσκύψασα καί τινα πρὸς τὸ οὖς ἐπᾴδουσα ἐξήγειρέ…” 245 This ritual is also similar to Aeschylus’ necromantic ritual. See Aesch., Pers., 607-618; Cho., 87-497. See Daniel Odgen, Greek and Roman Necromancy, (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2004), 7-9. See esp. 9n.16. 246 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22; 6.15; In the case of the third Nekyia, Charicleia has not performed any transgressions, but rather miraculously survived a fire and so he explains what she did to accomplish such a task. See, 8.11. “παντάρβην φορέουσα πυρὸς μὴ τάρβει ἐρωήν,/ ῥηίδι´ ὡς μοίραις χἄ τ´ ἀδόκητα πέλει…” In the Odyssey, the conditions revolve around the slaughter of Helios’ cattle, which leads to the death of Odysseus’ entire crew and his detainment on Ogygia. Heliodorus adds this component to the prophecy in Bessa, the animated corpse adds a condition to Calasiris’ journey, stating that he must hurry to Memphis if he wants to save his sons from fratricide. Heliod., Aeth., 6.15. 247 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22; 6.15. 42

with a warning. In the corpse’s warning, he condemns his mother for performing magic publicly, in front of Calasiris and Charicleia, about whom the corpse predicts a conditional prophecy based on Calasiris’ speed to Memphis.248 While Charicleia and Calasiris remain as recipients of the prophecy, just as Odysseus does to Tiresias, an entirely different character performs the ritual that allows the prophecy to take place. The substitution of this Homeric act diverges from Heliodorus’ previous interpretations of Homeric episodes, as it separates any association of magic with the main protagonists. This separation is further emphasized by Heliodorus’ other interpretations of Homer’s Nekyia, which take the form of dreams.

The prophetic nature of the appearances of the dead in dreams in the Aethiopica must be examined to understand why Heliodorus uses the setting of the dream to replace the necromantic ritual. Dreams in the novel share the same qualities as oracles, which both require interpretation in order to depict future events accurately.249 Towards the beginning of the novel, Thyamis incorrectly interprets his dream of Isis in accordance with his desires.250 Moreover, Thyamis chooses a different interpretation of this same dream later in the text.251 Heliodorus also depicts Charicleia dreaming of a man cutting out her eye,252 which leads to a discussion of possible interpretations with Cnemon and Theagenes. Cnemon emphasizes that wasting time analyzing dreams is as problematic as incorrectly interpreting dreams.253 Nevertheless, these dreams are all treated as prophetic and are interpreted in precisely the same way as the Oracle riddle, wherein

248 Heliod., Aeth., 6.15. The corpse notes that if Calasiris gets to Memphis quickly, he will be able to save his sons who are about to fight one another. For Charicleia, he again restates her destiny to reach Ethiopia, where she will spend her life with Theagenes, but not before facing hardships and dangers. 249 The interpretation of dreams is not unique to Heliodorus’ novel, but rather, was a widely-practiced art in antiquity, especially after the Second Sophistic. Texts such as Artemidorus’ Oneirocritica survive, providing possible interpretations of icons and symbols in dreams from an ancient perspective. While it is impossible to know whether Heliodorus had read Artemidorus, it is likely that Artemidorus’ interpretations of dream meanings are the product of widely known cultural connotation, rather than personal interpretation. See Patricia Cox Miller, Dreams in Late Antiquity, (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994), 29. For papers that compare Heliodorus’ novel to Artemidorus’ dream theory, see Ken Dowden, “Kalasiris. Apollonius of Tyana, and the Lies of Teiresias,” Holy Men and Charlatans in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 19, ed. Stelios Panayotakis, Gareth Schmeling, and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2015), 4-6; John Hilton, “The Dream of Charikles (4.14.2): Intertextuality and Irony in the Ethiopian Story of Heliodorus,” Acta Classica 44, (2001): 80-82. 250 Heliod., Aeth., 1.18-19. See esp., Heliod., Aeth., 1.19.1 “Καὶ τὸ μὲν ὄναρ τοῦ τον ἔφραζε τὸν τρόπον οὕτως αὐτῷ τῆς ἐπιθυμίας ἐξηγουμένης·” 251 Heliod., Aeth., 1.30. 252 Heliod., Aeth., 2.16. 253 Heliod., Aeth., 2.16.7. “‘Ταῦτα μὲν οὕτως ἔσται καὶ χρὴ πιστεύειν,’ ἔλεγεν ὁ Κνήμων, ‘ἡμεῖς δὲ ὀνειρώττειν ὡς ἀληθῶς ἐοίκαμεν, ἐνύπνια μὲν καὶ φαντασίας ἐξ ετάζοντες, τῶν δὲ καθ´ ἑαυτοὺς περίσκεψιν οὐδ´ ἡντιναοῦν προτιθέντες· καὶ ταῦτα ἕως ἔξεστι, τοῦ Αἰγυπτίου τούτου (ἔλεγε δὲ τὸν Θέρμουθιν) ἀπολειπομένου καὶ νεκροὺς ἔρωτας ἀναπλάττοντος καὶ θρηνοῦντος.’” 43

Calasiris notes that all the people of Delphi understood the riddle to match some detail of their own lives.254 In this passage, Calasiris also categorizes the interpretation of an oracle and a dream as dependent on the outcome, thus confirming the prophetic qualities of the dream. Since Heliodorus portrays most of the dreams in his novel as prophetic, the dream landscape of the alluding nekyia episodes recapture the prophetic role of the original Odyssean version, without requiring a necromantic ritual to access dead characters. The prophetic nature of the dream in the Aethiopica facilitates the main interaction of the Nekyia scene as a space of prophetic speech.

In the final book of the Odyssey, the text depicts Hermes leading the ghosts of the suitors to the Underworld.255 The end of the Odyssey lists the geographic spaces that are located between the world of the living and the Underworld, placing the land of the dreams in the middle. Since Homer displays dead characters having access to the land of dreams, Heliodorus is therefore able to produce a scene that depicts the action of dead characters visiting the living without the need to depict too many instances of necromancy. Heliodorus’ use of dreams as a setting for a visiting dead figure reflects Homer’s portrayal of the land of dreams (δῆμον ὀνείρων). Without the proper rites, for instance, Patroclus can neither enter the Underworld nor return to the living, he is able to access Achilles through the land of dreams, 256 because it is placed geographically in between these two spaces.

Unlike the dream prophecies of the Aethiopica, Patroclus’ speech is devoid of any prophecy, but rather lists a set of instructions to facilitate his entry to Hades.257 By layering and conflating the concepts of dreams and oracles as prophetic, Heliodorus is able to recreate a Nekyia on two separate occasions that are prophetic and also retain the instructive sense of Patroclus’ speech. By the time that Calasiris’ dream occurs in the novel, several dreams have been portrayed within the text that clarify the purpose of dreams as prophetic already, resulting in the similarities between Odysseus’ speech to Calasiris and Patroclus’ plea to Achilles adds another element to the

254Heliod., Aeth., 3.35-36. See esp., 3.36. “ἄλλος γὰρ πρὸς ἄλλοτι τὸ λόγιον ἔσπα καὶ ὡς ἕκαστος εἶχε βουλήσεως, οὕτω καὶ ὑπελάμβανεν. Οὔπω δὲ οὐδεὶς τῶν ἀληθῶν ἐφήπτετο, χρησμοὶ γὰρ καὶ ὄνειροιτὰ πολλὰ τοῖς τέλεσι κρίνονται, καὶ ἄλλως οἱ Δελφοὶ πρὸς τὴν πομπὴν ἐπτοημένοι μεγαλοπρε πῶς ηὐτρεπισμένην ἠπείγοντο, τὰ χρησθέντα πρὸς τὸ ἀκριβὲς ἀνιχνεύειν ἀμελήσαντες.” 255 Hom., Od. 24.10-13. “Ἑρμείας ἀκάκητα κατ᾽ εὐρώεντα κέλευθα. / πὰρ δ᾽ ἴσαν Ὠκεανοῦ τεῥοὰς καὶ Λευκάδα πέτρην,/ ἠδὲ παρ᾽ Ἠελίοιο πύλας καὶ δῆμον ὀνείρων/ ἤϊσαν: αἶψα δ᾽ ἵκοντο κατ᾽ ἀσφοδελὸνλειμῶνα…” 256 Hom., Il. 23.65-92; See also, George Alexander Gazis, Homer and the Poetics of Hades, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018), 15-16; James Morris, “‘Dream Scenes’ in Homer, A Study in Variation.” Transactions of the American Philological Association 113, (1983): 41. 257 Hom., Il. 68-75. 44

scene. When Calasiris falls asleep on Zacynthus, he is visited by a figure who, just like Patroclus, is described briefly before his speech. These descriptions are all textual allusions to descriptions of Odysseus and echo scenes that recall Odysseus’ physical strength and his intellectual acumen.258 Similarly to Patroclus,259 Odysseus begins his speech with an accusation of Calasiris’ contempt for him.260 This accusation enables Odysseus to simultaneously take on the antagonistic role of Poseidon that drives and motivates the tumultuous journey of Odysseus, while also relaying the prophecy of Calasiris’ voyage as Tiresias does for Odysseus.261 In Odysseus’ warning, he implies that Calasiris’ travels will be difficult because both the land and sea will be contrived against him. Odysseus makes Charicleia’s destiny much clearer, however, by stating that it will end happily. Since Odysseus, the original recipient of the Homeric Nekyia, exchanges roles with Tiresias to relay the prophecy to Calasiris, Heliodorus devises a reversal of the original Homeric episode. Instead of depicting a hero receiving a prophecy from a soothsayer, Heliodorus depicts a prophet receiving a prophecy from the hero Odysseus. Furthermore, when Calasiris dies later in the novel, he in turn visits Charicleia and Theagenes in dreams, informing them of things that have already occurred and what task they must continue to perform.262 These sequences, however, remain linked

258 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22.1. “ὄναρ μοί τις πρεσβύτης ἐφαίνετο τὰ μὲν ἄλλα κατεσκληκὼς ἐπιγουνίδα δέ, λείψανον τῆς ἐφ´ ἡλικίας ἰσχύος, ἀνεσταλμένου ζώματος ὑποφαίνων, κυνῆν μὲν τῆς κεφαλῆς ἐπι κείμενος ἀγχίνουν δὲ ἅμα καὶ πολύτροπον περι σκοπούμενος καὶ οἷον ἐκ πληγῆς τινος μηρὸν σκάζοντα παρέλκων.” These allusions link to the following Homeric passages respectively: Od. 13.398, 18.66; Il. 10.261; Od. 13.332, 1.1, 19.392. See, Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 462n.144. 259 Hom., Il. 23.69. “εὕδεις, αὐτὰρ ἐμεῖο λελασμένος ἔπλευ Ἀχιλλεῦ.” 260 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22.2. “‘Ὦ θαυμάσιε’ ἔφη, ‘σὺ δὲ μόνος ἐν οὐδενὸς λόγου μέρει τέθεισαι τὰ καθ´ ἡμᾶς, ἀλλὰ πάντων ὅσοι δὴ τὴν Κεφαλλήνων παρέπλευσαν οἶκόν τε τὸν ἡμέτερον ἐπισκεψαμένων καὶ δόξαν γνῶναι τὴν ἡμετέραν ἐν σπουδῇ θεμένων αὐτὸς οὕτως ὀλιγώρως ἔσχηκας ὡς μηδὲ τοῦτο δὴ τὸ κοινὸν προσειπεῖν, ἐν γειτόνων καὶ ταῦτα οἰκοῦντα...” 261 Hom., Od. 11.101-103. “οὐ γὰρ ὀίω/ λήσειν ἐννοσίγαιον, ὅ τοι κότον ἔνθετο θυμῷ/ χωόμενος ὅτι οἱ υἱὸν φίλον ἐξαλάωσας.”; See Silvia Montiglio, “‘His eyes stood as though of horn and steel’: Odysseus’ Fortitude and Moral Ideas in the Greek Novels,” The Construction of the Real and the Ideal in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 17, ed. Stelios Panayotakis and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2013), 148. “Odysseus plays the role of the punishing god as the efficient motif that initiates Calasiris’ wanderings.”; Thomas Paulsen, Inszenierung des Schicksals: Tragödie und Komödie im Roman des Heliodor, (Berlin: Wissenschaftlicher Verlag, 1992), 162. “Letzter er weissagt dem Ägypter (V22.3) … Deitlicher kann nicht ausgesprochen weden, daß der Autor seinem Publikum Kalasiris als einen zweiten Odysseus präsentieren will, dem aug seinen Irrfahrten zu Wasser und zu Lande dielselben Schicksale widerfahren sollen wie jenem. fetrieben von der μῆνις einer Gottheit, nurdaßironischerweise der im Epos Verfolgte im Roman der Verfolgerist.”; Richard Hunter, “Homer and Greek Literature,” The Cambridge Companion to Homer, ed. Robert Fowler, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 251. “Here Odysseus appears to him on Kephallenia in a dream and threatens dire consequences, because Kalasiris has not travelled to nearby Ithaca to pay his respects to the Ithacan hero par excellence; Odysseus himself has now become the angry deity of the narrative patterns which Poseidon’s anger against him first bequeathed to Greek literature, and the punishment he imposes upon Kalasiris is precisely to become an Odysseus, finding ‘enemies on sea and land’ (5.22.3).” 262 Heliod., Aeth., 8.11. 45

by the exchange of roles between the living recipient and the dead prophet. Calasiris’ dream of Odysseus represents the first shift of this occurrence, as Odysseus remained the recipient of Tiresias’ prophecy in the original Homeric scene. In the later dream, Calasiris then switches roles from recipient to prophet to send an oneiric message to Charicleia and Theagenes. Notably, the last Nekyia of Calasiris does not provide a caution, but rather predicts that they will be released from Arsace’s imprisonment the following day, simply stating a prophecy without conditions. The supernatural interaction between living and dead characters, preserved through the scene’s association with Achilles’ dream of Patroclus, changes the form of the nekyia scene, yet remains Homeric in form. The repetition of the nekyia scenes in the Aethiopica define the interaction as an exchange of heroic roles, which transfers from Odysseus to Calasiris, who then transfers this further to Charicleia and Theagenes. This interaction results in Calasiris’ message to continue on their journey to Ethiopia, just as Odysseus’ prophecy to Calasiris motivates his journey back to Memphis. These prophecies possess the same general structure as Tiresias’ prophecy to Odysseus. The corpse in Bessa relates a warning that is entirely separated from the speaker,263 unlike Odysseus, who in his prophecy to Calasiris became an antagonistic force to replace the wrath of Poseidon.264 Instead, the corpse’s prophecy resembles Tiresias’ prophecy to Odysseus, as he verbalizes future dangers that are independent to him as a speaker. Following this explanation, Tiresias goes on to predict Odysseus’ travels by also warning Odysseus of potential pitfalls in his journey, such as the harming of Helios’ flocks.265 Tiresias’ prophecy concludes with a prediction, echoed in the final words of both the dream of Odysseus and the corpse of Bessa, both of whom end by referring to the far future of Charicleia in their respective scenes.266 The repeated combination of explanation and prediction, spoken by a dead figure, two of which are placed at the center of the novel in precisely the same location as Odysseus’ Nekyia, identify the scenes as allusions to the original.

2.7 Calasiris and Charicleia’s Recognition scenes

263 Heliod., Aeth., 6.15. 264 Hom., Od. 11. 101-103. 265 Hom., Od. 11.104-117. 266 Hom., Od. 11. 134-137. “θάνατος δέ τοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ/ ἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ σε πέφνῃ/ γήραι ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον: ἀμφὶδὲ λαοὶ/ ὄλβιοι ἔσσονται.” 46

The Aethiopica begins the second act of the novel through the recreation of recognitions that Odysseus experiences when he finally reaches Ithaca after his long return. Like all other episodes mentioned above, the two key recognition scenes of the Aethiopica recreate the same settings and the same character acts as their Odyssean equivalent, as Charicleia and Calasiris reach their respective homelands to make their return and be recognized by their families. Calasiris’ return occurs in his homeland of Memphis and Charicleia’s recognition scene occurs in her homeland of Meroë in Ethiopia.

Calasiris’ recognition scene is introduced with yet another reference to the Iliad. Upon reaching Memphis, Calasiris witnesses one son chasing another in combat three times around the city,267 just as Achilles chases Hector at the climax of the Iliad.268 The implication of Hector’s death is eclipsed by Calasiris’ sudden change of clothing. To interrupt and prevent the violence resulting from Thyamis and Petosiris’ battle, Calasiris reveals his identity in precisely the same way that Odysseus reveals his true identity to Telemachus and then later to the suitors in the Odyssey. Whether his disguise is intentional such as the beggar disguise, or unintentional, such as his monstrous nakedness upon meeting Nausicaa, Odysseus takes on many forms throughout the Odyssey. These forms are dependent on his outward appearance and define how he is treated by others. To an extent, the state of Odysseus’ clothing often ironically reveals a truth in his circumstances.269 To this effect, both Calasiris and Charicleia’s beggar disguises reflect their own form of truth.270 Calasiris begs his sons to stop fighting, before realizing that the clothing itself prevents him from being recognized.271 By discarding his beggar disguise, Calasiris reveals his true persona just as Athena reveals Odysseus’ true image to his son, Telemachus.272 Once the

267 Heliod., Aeth., 7.6-8. 268 Hom., Il. 22.137-213. 269 Elizabeth Block, “Clothing Makes the Man: A Pattern in the Odyssey,” Transaction of the American Philological Association 115 (1985): 2. “Dressed as a beggar, Odysseus is a beggar. Hence mistaken identification based on his clothing confirms that Odysseus is not yet restored to his rightful position, and to this extent the clothing reflects a truth.” 270 Silvia Montiglio, Wandering in Ancient Greek Culture, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005), 35. “Odysseus’s disguise as a wandering beggar when he is about to regain his possessions signifies such fears and the real risk, for anyone who returned home after a long absence, of not being fully recognizes and reintegrated into one’s community… Within a society in which one’s identity is so closely determined by the native community, being away from it for whatever reason jeopardizes one’s identification and acceptance within that community.” 271 Heliod., Aeth., 7.7.1. “Οἱ δὲ οὐδέπω τὴν πατρῴαν ἀναγνωρίζοντες ὄψιν, τοῦ μὲν ἔτι τοῖς πτωχικοῖς ἠμφιεσμένου ῥάκεσιν αὐτοὶ δὲ ὅλοι τῆς ἀγωνίας ὄντες, ὥς τινα τῶν ἀγυρτῶν ἢ καὶ ἄλλως ἐξεστηκότων παρήμειβον·” 272 Heliod., Aeth., 7.7.2. “Ἀλλ´ ὅτε συνεὶς ὁ πρεσβύτης ὑπὸ τῆς εὐτελείας τοῦ σχήματος ἑαυτὸν οὐ γνωριζόμενον ἐγυμνώθη μὲν τῶν ἐπιβεβλημένων ῥακῶν τὴν δὲ ἱερὰν κόμην ἄδετον οὖσαν καθῆκε καὶ τὸ κατ´ ὤμων φορτίον καὶ 47

disguises are lifted, both Calasiris and Odysseus confirm their true identities to their children. Calasiris confirms his identity and begs his sons again to cease their fighting, which finally, stops Thyamis and Petosiris’ battle.273 Equally, Charicleia beseeches Theagenes to recognize her, which he only does after she reminds him of the torch she carried in Delphi during the procession.274 As a result, the characters are successfully reunited.

Charicleia’s return acts a reversal of the return of Odysseus, and therefore also to Calasiris’ return. Unlike the two men, Charicleia is somewhat removed from her identity as an Ethiopian princess, both due to her pale appearance and because she has never lived in Ethiopia, having left when she was very small and raised primarily amid the Greek culture of Delphi. Charicleia’s journey to her homeland takes her not from the edge of the world back to the center, as is the case with Odysseus, but rather quite the opposite. As Delphi was often regarded as the centre of the world in antiquity,275 Charicleia literally travels from the center of the world to the edge of the world, Ethiopia. In the Odyssey, Homer describes the Ethiopians as living on either side of the world’s edge.276 Charicleia carries out her return and convinces her birth parents of her identity.

The final recognition scene that reunites Charicleia with her Ethiopian family requires a series of proofs to verify her identity to achieve her integration with her home. Out of these several forms of proof, Charicleia achieves her recognition through the use of tokens of recognition left by Persinna as a dowry,277 similarities between Charicleia’s appearance and the painting of

τὴν ἐν χερσὶ βακτηρίαν ἀπορρίψας ἔστη κατὰ πρόσωπον καὶ ὤφθη γεραρός τε καὶ ἱεροπρεπής…”; Hom., Od. 16.172- 180. 273 Heliod., Aeth., 7.7.2-3. “‘Ὦ τέκνα,’ σὺν δάκρυσιν ἀνωλόλυξεν ‘οὗτος ἐγὼ Καλάσιρις, οὗτος ἐγὼ πατὴρ ὁ ὑμέτερος. Αὐτοῦ στῆτε καὶ τὴν ἐκ μοιρῶν μανίαν στήσατε, τὸν φύντα καὶ ἔχοντες καὶ αἰδεσθέντες,’ τότε οἱ μὲν παρείθησαν καὶ κατενεχθῆναι μικρὸν ἀπολιπόντες προσέπιπτον ἄμφω τῷ πατρὶ καὶ τοῖς γόνασι περιφύντες πρῶτα μὲν ἀτενέστερον ἐνορῶντες διηκριβοῦντο τὸν ἀναγνωρισμόν, ὡς δὲ οὐ φάσμα τὴν ὄψιν ἀλήθειαν δὲ ἐγνώρισαν, πολλὰ ἅμα καὶ ἐξ ἐναντίων ἔπασχον…” 274 Heliod., Aeth., 7.7.6-7. “Ὁ δὲ οἷον εἰκὸς ὄψιν τε ῥυπῶσαν καὶ πρὸς τὸ αἰσχρότερον ἐπιτετηδευμένην ἰδὼν καὶ ἐσθῆτα τετρυχωμένην καὶ κατερρωγυῖαν, ὥσπερ τινὰ τῶν ἀγειρουσῶν καὶ ἀληθῶς ἀλῆτιν διωθεῖτο καὶ παρηγκωνίζετο· καὶ τέλος ἐπειδὴ οὐ μεθίει, ὡς ἐνοχλοῦσαν καὶ τῇ θέᾳ τῶν ἀμφὶ Καλάσιριν ἐμποδὼν ἱσταμένην καὶ διερράπισεν. Ἡ δὲ ‘Ὦ Πύθιε,’ ἔφη πρὸς αὐτὸν ἠρέμα ‘οὐδὲ τοῦ λαμπαδίου μέμνησαι;’” 275 Michael Scott, Delphi: A History of the Center of the Ancient World, (Oxfordshire: Princeton University Press, 2014), 36. 276 Hom., Od. 1.22-25. 277 Heliod., Aeth., 10.13.1-14.2. “[13.] Καὶ ἅμα λέγουσα τὴν συνεκτεθεῖσαν ἑαυτῇ ταινίαν ὑπὸ τῇ γαστρὶ φέρουσα προὔφερέ τε καὶ ἀνειλήσασα τῇ Περσίννῃ προσεκόμιζεν … [14.] ‘Σῴζεται,’ ἔφη ‘καὶ ταῦτα,’ ἡ Χαρίκλεια, καὶ ἅμα ἐπεδείκνυ τοὺς ὅρμους. Πλέον ἡ Περσίννα ἰδοῦσα κατεπλάγη, καὶ πυνθανομένου τοῦ Ὑδάσπου τίνα ταῦτα εἴη καὶ εἴτι πλέον ἔχοι ἐκδιδάσκειν ἀπεκρίνατο οὐδὲν ἢ ὅτι γνωρίζει μὲν κατ´ οἶκον δὲ ταῦτα ἐξετάζειν καλόν.” 48

Andromeda,278 a birth mark on her arm that indicates her royal blood,279 recognitions through the attestations of character memories of her,280 and through convincing the Ethiopian audience attending the sacrifice.281 Charicleia’s identity is tested with higher stakes primarily because she has no living memories of Ethiopia. Odysseus, on the other hand, is tested on several occasions on his knowledge of his life before the Trojan war to prove his true identity.282 The verification of the protagonist’s identity reconciles the main problem established in the opening scenes of the plot by returning the wandering heroes back to their home. Without the recognition scene, both Odysseus and Charicleia remain strangers among their family, and are never fully integrated back into their respective household communities.283 Charicleia’s return to her identity as a princess also resolves the second problem in the novel, with respect to the reconciliation of her romance with Theagenes. Despite the arrangement of Charicleia with another suitor, Hydaspes recognizes the virtuous qualities that Theagenes possesses, particularly in his physical aptitude for wrestling, and grants the couple’s marriage his blessing.284 Thus, the two recognition scenes of the Aethiopica draw heavily from the Odyssey in order to produce reinterpretations of Odysseus’ homecoming. Both

278 Heliod., Aeth., 10. 14.7.-15.1. “[14.] Εἰ δ´ οὖν καὶ ἄλλως πιστώσασθαι βούλει, πρόκειται τὸ ἀρχέτυπον· ἐπισκόπει τὴν Ἀνδρομέδαν ἀπαράλλακτον ἐν τῇ γραφῇ καὶ ἐν τῇ κόρῃ δεικνυμένην.’ [15.] Ἐκόμιζον ἀράμενοι τὴν εἰκόνα προσταχθέντες οἱ ὑπηρέται καὶ πλησίον τῆς Χαρικλείας ἀντεγείραντες τοσοῦτον ἐκίνησαν παρὰ πάντων κρότον καὶ θόρυβον, ἄλλων πρὸς ἄλλους, ὅσοι καὶ κατὰ μικρὸν συνίεσαν τὰ λεγόμενα καὶ πραττόμενα, διαδηλούντων καὶ πρὸς τὸ ἀπηκριβωμένον τῆς ὁμοιότητος σὺν περι χαρείᾳ ἐκπλαγέντων, ὥστε καὶ τὸν Ὑδάσπην οὐκέτι μὲν ἀπιστεῖν ἔχειν, ἐφεστάναι δὲ πολὺν χρόνον ὑφ´ ἡδονῆς ἅμα καὶ θαύματος ἐχόμενον.” 279 Heliod., Aeth., 10.15.2. “Ὁ δὲ Σισιμίθρης ‘Ἓν ἔτι λείπεται,’ ἔφη· ‘περὶ βασιλείας γὰρ καὶ τῆς κατ´ αὐτὴν γνησίας διαδοχῆς ὁ λόγος καί, πρόγε πάντων, ἀληθείας αὐτῆς. Γύμνωσον τὴν ὠλένην, ὦ κόρη - μέλανι συνθήματι τὸ ὑπὲρ πῆχυν ἐσπίλωτο - οὐδὲν ἀπρεπὲς γυμνούμενον τὸ τῶν φύντων καὶ γένους μαρτύριον.’ Ἐγύμνωσεν αὐτίκα ἡ Χαρίκλεια τὴν λαιάν, καὶ ἦν τις ὥσπερ ἔβενος περίδρομος ἐλέφαντα τὸν βραχίονα μιαίνων.” 280 Heliod., Aeth., 10.14.4. First, Charicleia is defended by Sisimithres: “‘Λευκὴν,’ ἔφη ‘κἀγὼ τότε ἀνειλόμην ἣν ἀνειλόμην, ἄλλως τε καὶ τῶν ἐτῶν ὁ χρόνος συμβαίνει πρὸς τὴν παροῦσαν τῆς κόρης ἡλικίαν, ἑπτακαίδεκά που τῶν πάντων ταύτῃ τε καὶ τῇ ἐκθέσει πληρουμένων. Ἐμοὶ δὲ καὶ τὸ βλέμμα τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν παρίσταται, καὶ τὸν ὅλον τῆς ὄψεως χαρακτῆρα καὶ τὸ ὑπερφυὲς τῆς ὥρας, ὁμολογοῦντα τοῖς τότε τὰ νυνὶ φαινόμενα, γνωρίζω.’”; 281 Heliod., Aeth., 10.16-17. See esp., 10.17.1-2. “Τὸ δὲ πλῆθος τῶν Αἰθιόπων ἐσείσθη πρὸς τὰ εἰρημένα καὶ οὐδὲ πρὸς βραχὺ τῆς Χαρικλείας ἀγομένης ἀνασχόμενοι μέγα τι καὶ ἀθρόον ἐξέκραγον ‘Σῷζε τὴν κόρην,’ ἀναβοῶντες, ‘σῷζετὸ βασίλειον αἷμα, σῷζε τὴν ὑπὸ θεῶν σωθεῖσαν· ἔχομεν τὴν χάριν· πεπλήρωται ἡμῖν τὸ νόμιμον. Ἐγνωρίσαμέν <σε> ὡς βασιλέα· γνώριζε καὶ σὺ σαυτὸν ὡς πατέρα. Ἱλήκοιεν οἱ θεοὶ τῆς δοκούσης παρανομίας. Πλέον παρανομήσομεν ἀνθιστάμενοι τοῖς ἐκείνων βουλήμασι· μηδεὶς ἀναιρείτω τὴν ὑπ´ ἐκείνων περισωθεῖσαν. Ὁ τοῦ δήμου πατὴρ, γίνου καὶ κατ´ οἶκον πατήρ.’” 282 Hom., Od. 23.173-204; Hom., Od. 19.215-219. “νῦν μὲν δή σευ, ξεῖνέ γ᾽, ὀΐω πειρήσεσθαι, / εἰ ἐτεὸν δὴ κεῖθι σὺν ἀντιθέοις ἑτάροισι/ ξείνισας ἐν μεγάροισιν ἐμὸν πόσιν, ὡς ἀγορεύεις./ εἰπέ μοι ὁπποῖ᾽ ἄσσα περὶ χροῒ εἵματα ἕστο,/ αὐτός θ᾽ οἷος ἔην, καὶ ἑταίρους, οἵ οἱ ἕποντο.”; Hom., Od. 19.392-396. “νίζε δ᾽ ἄρ᾽ ἆσσον ἰοῦσα ἄναχθ᾽ ἑόν: αὐτίκα δ᾽ ἔγνω/ οὐλήν, τήν ποτέ μιν σῦς ἤλασε λευκῷ ὀδόντι/ Παρνησόνδ᾽ ἐλθόντα μετ᾽ Αὐτόλυκόν τε καὶ υἷας, / μητρὸς ἑῆς πάτερ᾽ ἐσθλόν, ὃς ἀνθρώπους ἐκέκαστο/ κλεπτοσύνῃ θ᾽ ὅρκῳτε…” 283 Silvia Montiglio, Wandering in Ancient Greek Culture, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005), 35-36. 284 Heliod., Aeth., 10. 30-38. 49

characters must verify their identity through a series of proofs that legitimize their claim to their place in the household.

Heliodorus’ ability to assimilate Homeric content into his new and original novel is consistent and uses several different techniques to bring about these Odyssean effects. Heliodorus recreates the same order of episodes, which are demarcated by both the diegetic and extra-diegetic placement of episodic allusions to Homer. Moreover, Heliodorus’ characters consistently perform Homeric acts attributed to each episode, usually within the same order that they are portrayed in the Odyssey. The resulting effect features a novel, which recreates Homeric characters performing Homeric acts in Homeric spaces with literal and figurative language, all of which is imported from Homer. Thus, the production of all these elements simultaneously allows for the recreation of entire Odyssean scenes, usually in the order they are depicted in the Odyssey. Heliodorus also adds textual allusions to seemingly irrelevant Homeric passages, which usually trace to the Iliad, often building together with other allusive elements to mark the scene as an Odyssean episode. Thus, the episodic allusions to the Odyssey are often generated through the text of the Iliad. The holistic interpretations of Heliodorus’ episodes are crucial to the recognition of the Odyssean markers, however, since these markers use various techniques to produce Homeric character actions within compatibly Odyssean spaces. Therefore, it would be impossible to recognize these allusions from a close reading of an individual scene, as the Homeric material follows repetitive trends in the overall design of the text. The allusive design of the Aethiopica has been compared to the effect of a collage,285 since it takes elements from several different places to develop the Odyssean texture. This analogy was initially applied simply to comment on the different kinds of allusions that occur in Calasiris’ Nekyia scene, but it is also applicable to the various portrayals of Homeric material through a literalization or figuration of Odyssean scenes, reanimations of action and space, or, simply, through the recapitulation of Odyssean values. In the next chapter, I will analyse how Heliodorus employs material from the Odyssey in both the structure and the episodic text to generate a discourse that displays his distinct differences from Homer’s original model, emphasized by the reproduction of the structure and textual episodes that Heliodorus recreates.

285 Giuseppe Zanetto, “Greek Novel and Archaic Greek Literature,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 407. 50

Chapter 3

Heliodorus’ Allusive Commentary on the Odyssey

The topics I have explored previously analyze the Homeric allusive markers in the Aethiopica, which reproduce the unique structure of the Odyssey and the actions of Odyssean characters within compatible Odyssean settings. Heliodorus strategically integrates the Homeric allusions into a genre already predisposed to the emulation of Homer in a way that steps beyond other texts of its kind. Through the integration of Homeric material, patterns are available for analysis based on Heliodorus’ departures from the Odyssey. The divergence from epic in this chapter will focus on the divisions of Odysseus’ character. Rather than portray Odysseus as one fixed character, the Aethiopica divides the actions of Odysseus among the three main characters. Calasiris, Theagenes, and Charicleia all take part in the actions of Odysseus, although their actions are divided in such a way that three characters portray different aspects of Odysseus’ character as he is portrayed in Homer. While Calasiris’ Odyssean actions portray the overall progression of Odysseus’ character arc, his scenes emphasize his superior wisdom and authority, particularly over Greek characters. The Odyssean actions of Theagenes’ actions, on the other hand, underscore his physical strength and courage. These two male characters together recreate both aspects of Odysseus’ character. Charicleia’s portrayal of the Homeric action, which also follows the entire progression of Odysseus’ story line, nevertheless introduces new values that add to the heroic roles exhibited by Calasiris and Theagenes, particularly regarding her religious devotion, her foreign origins as a lost Ethiopian princess, and her novelistic reinforcement of modesty (σωφροσύνη).

While Heliodorus’ protagonists share traits and actions with characters from the Odyssey, they follow tropes visible in other novels. Theagenes displays a distinct portrayal of ἀνδρεία,286 which he shares strongly with Chariton’s Chaereas,287 and to a lesser extent, Longus’ Daphnis.288

286 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 119-128, 130-132, 143-144, 147-159. In the Aethiopica, Heliodorus characterizes Cnemon closely with Achilles Tatius’ portrayal of Clitophon, which contrasts Theagenes’ ἀνδρεία by Cnemon’s association with cowardice (δειλία), thus emphasizing Theagenes’ heroic bravery. See, Heliod., Aeth., 6.1, 6.5; Koen de Temmerman, Crafting Characters: Heroes and Heroines in the Ancient Greek Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 124-128. 287 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 118-119, 133-135, 139-147. 288 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 137-138. Achilles Tatius’ character, Clitophon, emphasizes the significance of ἀνδρεία through his shallow embodiment of the term and the ensuing cowardice that 51

Charicleia’s character also shares significant similarities to other female protagonists of the ancient novels,289 particularly in the value of chastity (σωφροσύνη), which she shares with Xenophon’s Antheia,290 Achilles Tatius’ Leucippe,291 and Longus’ Chloë.292 The protagonists of the Aethiopica are equally confronted with similar antagonistic figures, such as the bandits, pirates, and suitors that threaten the integrity of their virtues.293 Calasiris’ character, however, does not reinterpret a trope from the novel, as no guiding figure in any other novel accompanies the main protagonists on their journey. While he performs the most Odyssean actions in the novel, his support of Charicleia’s return and his death before the end of the Aethiopica categorize him as a supporting character rather than a main protagonist. Moreover, while the novels portray characters accompanying the main protagonists on their journeys, they represent peers rather than figures of authority or guidance. Calasiris’ liminal role in the text acts as a catalyst for Charicleia to begin her journey, transmits to her the heroic role through the vehicle of the nekyia scene, and through his guidance, the protagonists develop the skills necessary to achieve the end of their journey by their own merit.

To understand the nuances attributed to Calasiris as neither a novelistic nor Odyssean figure, especially considering his central role to the plot of the Aethiopica, I apply the theories of Russian formalism to the ancient novel. Vladimir Propp’s study on narrative types through the assessment of constants and variables between texts has noted that while the names of characters change, the types of characters that perform specific actions (which he labels as “functions”) remain consistent between texts, whereas all other attributes vary.294 Among the referential literary

he displays. Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 128-130, 135-137, 158. 289 Renate Johne, “Women in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 176-178. 290 Renate Johne, “Women in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 158, 186-187. 291 Renate Johne, “Women in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 197-189. 292 Renate Johne, “Women in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 189-191. 293 Alain Billault, La création romanesque dans la littérature grecque à l’époque impériale. (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1991), 164-166; Koen de Temmerman, Crafting Characters: Heroes and Heroines in the Ancient Greek Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 127, 141, 316. 294 Vladimir Propp, Morphology of the Folktale, 2nd ed, trans. Laurence Scott, ed. Louis A. Wagner, (Austin: University of Texas Press. 1968), 20-21. Massimo Fusillo argues that Propp should not be applied to the ancient novels, since Propp’s study would be more suited to studies of trends in mythology. Like Fusillo, I do not find the term “function” entirely suitable for this study, however, since Heliodorus categorically dismantles any idea of a literary function by bringing together two constituents from different genres (the novel characters and the epic actions), 52

devices of the Aethiopica, Heliodorus disrupts both the functions of the novel and the functions of the epic because he unites the character types of the novel with the actions of the Odyssey. The combination of the novel-epic functions transforms the intended meaning of the actions as they are portrayed in Homer and the novelistic characters, who are defined by these actions throughout the text. Heliodorus’ allusions rarely mark a character as a consistent Odyssean figure, but rather divides the scenes of the Odyssey in such a way that Odyssean character roles are shared among Heliodorus’ characters. As a result, Heliodorus’ main characters simultaneously embody multiple Odyssean figures and similarly, the actions of Homer’s characters are shared among multiple characters in the Aethiopica. Heliodorus’ reshuffled presentation of the Aethiopica presents a network of Homeric allusion and novelistic tropes that together form a metaliterary commentary on the relationship between the epic and novelistic hero as a continuation of the heroic narrative. To determine Heliodorus’ metaliterary commentary, I will examine the three main characters of Calasiris, Theagenes, and Charicleia, all of whom perform Odysseus’ acts repetitively throughout the novel, to identify how Heliodorus integrates the novel and epic in the same spaces to mark Charicleia and Theagenes as continuations of the heroic legacy.

3.1 Calasiris as the Wise Odysseus

Calasiris plays a central role in the integration of the novelistic and epic components of the Aethiopica in his role as a priestly guide, but also because he continues a formal ritual of transference, which he passes on to Charicleia and Theagenes. Calasiris accesses the ritual of the nekyia from his developed skill as a priest, granting him access to the same supernatural universe accessed by Odysseus. The interaction between the gods and men in the epic differs from the portrayal of divine or supernatural figures in the novels. While Homer depicts the gods as active participants of his narratives that speak directly to mortals, Heliodorus and the other novelists depict characters who must interpret signals from lived experiences as messages from the divine, which has been labelled as a “god-ridden world.”295 Thus, Heliodorus substitutes scenes from the Odyssey that contain divine intervention with scenes where Calasiris interprets divine messages for the protagonists. Thus Calasiris represents a divine guide who assists Charicleia and Theagenes

the vocabulary used in Propp was useful as a terminological guide. See Massimo Fusillo, “Modern Critical Theories,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 281. 295 Roger Beck, “Mystery Religions, Aretology and the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 136. 53

through countries that are identified by their wisdom.296 Due to the allegorical associations Heliodorus makes between Greece, Egypt, and Ethiopia, Charicleia and Theagenes’ travels have been compared to a rite of passage that redefines the outskirts of the Mediterranean as an epicentre of divine wisdom.297 Despite Calasiris’ interpretive role acting as a Homeric substitute, he represents a rare example of an authoritative supporting character accompanying the novelistic protagonists on their journey. Just as Odysseus’ journey is defined by the loss of his crew throughout his travels and his solitary arrival to Ithaca,298 the protagonists of the novel are often separated from parent or authoritative figures to overcome obstacles by their own merit.299 Therefore, Heliodorus distinguishes Calasiris from other figures of his kind in the Aethiopica.

Calasiris’ Odyssean acts are frequently associated with his role as priest, guide, and father. These roles are anomalous to both the novel and the Odyssey because no human figure guides Odysseus nor the protagonists in other ancient novels throughout the progression of their journey. While other protagonists of the Greek novels are accompanied by supporting characters at some point in their journey, these figures never possess notable authority, but rather, are depicted as peers to the main two characters who aid in the development of the narratives.300 However, Calasiris shares the authority with Odysseus, who guides his men along adventures in his embedded narrative. Moreover, Calasiris’ religious affiliations replace Odysseus’ frequent interactions with Athena and other divine beings, since the priest frequently interprets supernatural or divine signs to inform him on his travels. While Odysseus loses his men throughout his travels until his solitary shipwreck on Ogygia,301 Charicleia and Theagenes do not die. Instead, Heliodorus depicts Calasiris’ death,302 which produces a reversal between the events in the Odyssey while also portraying Calasiris with the same level of authority held by Odysseus in his embedded narration. Calasiris’ authority grants the character the ability to orchestrate the main journey of the

296 Heliod., Aeth., 2.27-28; 4.12. 297 Tim Whitmarsh, “The Writes of Passage: Cultural Initiation in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Constructing Identities in Late Antiquity, ed. Richard Miles, (London: Routledge, 1999), 16-40; Silvia Montiglio, Wandering in Ancient Greek Culture, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005), 241. 298 Michael Silk, “The Odyssey and its Explorations,” The Cambridge Companion to Homer, ed. Robert Fowler, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2004), 33. 299 Alain Billault, “Characterization in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 60-61. 300 Alain Billault, “Characterization in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 116-117. 301 Hom., Od. 12.415-453. 302 Heliod., Aeth., 7.11. 54

Aethiopica. By interpreting Charicleia’s recognitive materials that recount her true parentage and identity, Calasiris offers Charicleia a choice to leave Charicles and the marriage he has assigned to her in favour of pursuing her return to her natural family in Ethiopia.303 Moreover, Calasiris’ death grants Charicleia and Theagenes the opportunity to complete their quest to Ethiopia by their own merit, just as Odysseus returns to Ithaca on his own. Thus, Calasiris’ guiding authority is made possible throughout the novel, which is achieved in his status as a father and as a priest.

A major aspect of Calasiris’ authority stems from his role as a priest. No other priest in any of the five Greek novels is portrayed in such a central role as Calasiris, although, apart from Longus’ Daphnis and Chloe, all the novels incorporate the institution of religion into their pages.304 The only other novel that depicts a priest figure similarly to Calasiris is the unnamed Egyptian priest who aids Leucippe and Clitophon to prove their respective innocence.305 While both Calasiris and the priest from Leucippe and Clitophon share their protection and support of the heroes,306 Calasiris alone accompanies Theagenes and Charicleia on their travels and therefore plays a far more central role than the assisting priest who features at the end of Achilles Tatius’ novel. Calasiris also establishes his authority as the perceived guardian of Charicleia’s virtue. As a father, Calasiris acts as an authoritative intermediary between Charicleia’s suitors.307 Thus Calasiris embodies these two roles to solve the novelistic conflicts in his role as a father figure, while simultaneously using his accessibility to the divine as a priest to interact with the divine realm as it is portrayed in Homer.

Calasiris’ centrality as a figure of authority is further expressed by Odyssean personality traits in his ability to orchestrate events and manipulate the other characters. Calasiris’ return journey to his home city precedes Charicleia’s return to Ethiopia, reproducing the significant moments that define Odysseus’ return to Ithaca. He tricks Charicles to grant Charicleia the choice to return to her true family and reclaim her identity as the princess of Ethiopia. He is visited by

303 Heliod., Aeth., 4.8-4.14. 304 Ewen Bowie, “A Land without Priests? Religious Authority in Longus, Daphnis and Chloe,” Holy Men and Charlatans in the Ancient Novel: Ancient Narrative Supplementum 19, ed. Stelios Panayotakis, Gareth Schmeling, and Michael Paschalis, (Eelde: Barkhuis, 2015), 69-71. 305 Ach. Tat., 7.12-8.15. 306 Plepelits, Karl. “Achilles Tatius,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 398. 307 Alain Billault, “Characterization in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 60-61. 55

Odysseus and given not a prophecy of his own future, but instead an assurance of Charicleia’s happy ending (τέλος αὐτῇ δεξιὸν εὐ ἀγγελίζεται).308 Calasiris returns to Memphis because the enchanted corpse in Bessa tells him that his sons are fighting there, but also because Theagenes, Charicleia’s lover, was sent by Mitranes to Memphis.309 The motivation behind Calasiris’ Odyssean allusions differs drastically from Odysseus, who wishes to return to his own home for his and his own family’s sake. Unlike Odysseus, Calasiris’ plot supports the completion and reconciliation of another character’s story; however, the conclusion of his story arc ultimately discards the character as the central protagonist. Thus, Calasiris neither fits as a novelistic trope, nor as a perfect duplication of Odysseus of the novel, despite similarities in his own narrative that suggest a correlation.

Calasiris performs several acts in the novel that emphasize his wisdom and trickery to secure his role as an authoritative figure within the text. Heliodorus draws a clear correlation between Calasiris and Odysseus in his portrayal of Calasiris as the speaker of the second embedded narrative.310 Through this narrative, Calasiris controls the portrayal of the events, which contains several examples of his own capacity to mislead, just as Odysseus’ narrative to the Phaeacians contains several accounts of coercion and deception to overcome obstacles. Calasiris first demonstrates his ability to deceive by lying successfully to other characters. In the case of his deception of Charicles, Calasiris uses his authority as a foreign priest to cause Charicles to distrust his own instincts.311 Later in the novel, Heliodorus articulates the most visual example of Calasiris’ trickery through his re-enactment of Odysseus’ beggar disguise as he returns to his home city of Memphis.312 Outside of Calasiris’ performing role as Odysseus, Calasiris’ role as Charicleia’s father figure depicts an allusive similarity to Odysseus’ ability to mislead others. Calasiris also misguides antagonists who attempt to marry Charicleia on several occasions within the Aethiopica.313 Calasiris’ perceived authority as Charicleia’s father provides him with opportunities to navigate and lie to the three suitors, as they immediately take his alleged approval of the match as the truth. To the merchant on Zacynthus, Calasiris explains Trachinus’ plan to kidnap Charicleia

308 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22. 309 Heliod., Aeth., 5.9; See also, 6.4. 310 See above, 28-31. 311 See above, 56-59 312 Heliod., Aeth., 7.1-7. 313 Heliod., Aeth., 5.21, 5.23-29, 5.30-32. 56

to convince him to leave earlier. In this explanation, Calasiris also states that he would prefer Charicleia to marry the merchant instead of the pirate because of his great wealth and because he promises to live in Egypt, despite his clear intention to violate these terms.314 To the pirate, Trachinus, Calasiris feigns joy at his desire for Charicleia’s marriage, while also asking to delay the ceremony.315 To Trachinus’ deputy, Pelorus, Calasiris notices his interest in Charicleia and uses that interest to incite a mutiny among the pirates.316 Because of his wisdom, Calasiris is able to use these men’s desire for Charicleia in order to transform them into tools, which he uses to further his own goals. Thus, in addition to Calasiris’ performance of Odyssean acts, Calasiris’ actions display the priest’s Odyssean aptitude for trickery and manipulation, which directly derives from his guiding roles of authority as a priest and father figure.

Calasiris’ relationship to Odysseus is further accentuated by the depiction of his death, which closely resembles the predicted death of Odysseus articulated by Tiresias. Odysseus will die far away from the sea, from old age, surrounded by his people living in prosperity.317 The city of Memphis is landlocked, a fact illustrated through Calasiris and Charicleia’s journey from Chemmis to Memphis on foot.318 Calasiris’ death in his sleep is first reported as a result of his age,319 a fact emphasized by the inauguration his eldest son, Thyamis, as the new head priest of the temple because of Calasiris’s old age, which occurs before he dies320 Finally, Heliodorus draws a comparison between Calasiris’ death and Odysseus’ prophesied death by depicting the prosperity of Memphis after his return. Calasiris’ return to his city restores the vacuum of power left by his absence that caused his sons to fight in the first place. As a result, his arrival in Memphis rectifies the conflict of his sons and the squabble over the inherited high priest role of Memphis.321 Thus, Calasiris dies in such a way that is compatible with Tiresias’ prophesied death of Odysseus, as he dies within the landlocked city of Memphis at an old age, and the result of his return re-establishes the prosperity that occurred before his initial absence.

314 Heliod., Aeth., 5.21. 315 Heliod., Aeth., 5.29. 316 Heliod., Aeth., 5.31. 317 Hom., Od. 11.134-137. “θάνατος δέ τοι ἐξ ἁλὸς αὐτῷ/ ἀβληχρὸς μάλα τοῖος ἐλεύσεται, ὅς κέ σε πέφνῃ/ γήραι ὕπο λιπαρῷ ἀρημένον: ἀμφὶ δὲ λαοὶ/ ὄλβιοι ἔσσονται.” 318 Heliod., Aeth., 6.12-7.1. 319 Heliod., Aeth., 7.11. In this passage, the primary narrator also speculates that the other cause of Calasiris’ death is suggested to be that he prays the gods to end his life. 320 Heliod., Aeth., 7.9. 321 Heliod., Aeth., 7.6-8. 57

Nonetheless, Calasiris’ narrative, including the scenes that occur after his death, portrays the full lifecycle of an epic hero. In the depiction of the Odyssey’s Nekyia, Odysseus’ ritual produces both the prophecy of Tiresias and his interaction with several heroic figures. Out of all the heroic figures that Odysseus approaches, however, the only heroic predecessor to whom he speaks is the figure of Heracles.322 In his portrayal of Odysseus in Calasiris’ dream, Heliodorus draws a distinct comparison to Homer’s interaction between Heracles and Odysseus by depicting the shade of Odysseus in Calasiris’ dream in a similar way to Heracles both in terms of physical description and in the purpose of their speeches.

Heliodorus duplicates Homer’s characterization of Heracles in descriptions of Odysseus in Calasiris’ dream. Homer portrays Heracles as a menacing figure, adorned in clothing that allude to his heroic labours and holding a bow.323 Similarly, in the Aethiopica, Odysseus is identified primarily by a series of small textual allusions that identify his character by the deeds he commits in the Iliad and Odyssey. Instead of a piece of clothing that pictorially depicts these actions, the images are brought to mind by the mention of a helmet and of Odysseus’ upper thigh from underneath his girded tunic.324 The leather helmet on Odysseus’ head can be identified as the helmet returned to Odysseus during his mission with Diomedes in the Iliad.325 Homer describes the helmet through an ecphrasis which elaborates on the helmet’s history, citing the acts of subterfuge that Odysseus’ maternal grandfather, Autolycus, achieved while wearing the helmet. Given the significance of clothing in Homeric literature,326 the way that Autolycus previously used the helmet, and the immediate use of the helmet after it was regifted to Odysseus,327 the helmet is associated with activities of subterfuge and deception.

Odysseus is also identified by the wound on his leg, which in the Odyssey is depicted as a scar and reveals Odysseus’ identity to his slave, Eurycleia. In Calasiris’ dream, the scar represents the

322 Hom., Od. 11.605-627. For a thorough analysis of Odysseus’ interaction with Heracles, see H. G. Nesselrath, “Heracles in Homer,” More than Homer Knew – Studies on Homer and His Ancient Commentators, ed. Antonios Rengakos, Patrick Finglass, and Bernhard Zimmermann, (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2020), 27-36. 323 Hom., Od. 11.606-614. Odysseus also compares himself to Heracles earlier in the Odyssey to the Phaeacians, stating that he will never have the skill that Heracles possessed with the bow. (This scene occurs chronologically later than the nekyia, but textually presented beforehand) See Hom., Od. 8.223-235. 324 Hom., Od. 18.66-75. 325 Hom., Il. 10.260-273. 326 Elizabeth Block, “Clothing Makes the Man: A Pattern in the Odyssey,” Transaction of the American Philological Association 115 (1985): 4; Yamagata, Naoko Yamagata, "Clothing and Identity in Homer: The Case of Penelope's Web," Mnemosyne, Fourth Series, 58, no. 4 (2005): 540. 327 Hom., Il. 10.295-579. 58

same purpose, as Odysseus’ physical image is described not as a heroic figure, but as a skeletal (κατεσκληκὼς) old man (πρεσβύτης).328 It has been previously suggested that the choice to depict Odysseus as an old man relates to Athena’s transformation of him into an old beggar.329 Instead of the word πρεσβύτης, however, Homer uses the term ὁ γέρων to describe his transformed body.330 The choice to depict the Odysseus in Calasiris’ dream as a πρεσβύτης more closely resembles prior descriptions of Calasiris in the novel. Prior to Calasiris’ dream, the term πρεσβύτης is used sixteen times, eleven of which are used to describe the Egyptian priest. The frequency of attaching Calasiris’ identity to that of a πρεσβύτης and then explicitly referring to Odysseus by the same term establishes the two figures as sharing the same descriptive identity. Calasiris’ account of the dream also describes Odysseus as shrewd and of many devices (ἀγχίνουν δὲ ἅμα καὶ πολύτροπον),331 which allude to the many epithets of the hero throughout the epic poem that describe his nature. The description also recalls Heracles’ greeting to Odysseus, as he similarly describes him by his inventiveness (πολυμήχαν). Thus, the physical descriptions of Odysseus in the Aethiopica match the description of Heracles in the Odyssey because both heroes are identified by physical indicators of their past heroic deeds. Rather than using this material as an inventive or playful nod to the wider Odyssean elements of the Aethiopica, as is traditionally associated with allusions in literature, Heliodorus replaces the role of Heracles with the figure of Odysseus, who originally embodied the hero’s role and therefore replaces that role with his own characters. The result of this change creates a cascade effect that encourages the recognizing reader to identify the novel’s portrayal of Odysseus as the Heliodorus’ iteration of Homer’s Heracles and therefore also views Calasiris as the novelistic iteration of Homer’s Odysseus.

Heliodorus draws a closer comparison between the dream of Odysseus and the ghost of Heracles in the contents of the two shades’ speeches. Heliodorus presents an exchange of roles based on the functions assigned to these characters in the Odyssey. Just as Odysseus is depicted as the speaker of the Nekyia monologue, he portrays both speaking roles of Tiresias and Heracles, whereas Calasiris’ listening role links him to Odysseus in both scenarios. While Odysseus’ speech to Calasiris also contains the prophecy issued in Tiresias’ speech and the antagonism of

328 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22. 329 Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 462n.144. 330 Hom., Od. 18.66-75. 331 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22. 59

Poseidon,332 he also decrees to Calasiris that he will embark on adventures like his own.333 Odysseus’ statement works both as a prediction and also as an acknowledgement of the similarities that exist between Calasiris’ journey and his own. Odysseus’ acknowledgement can be compared to a comment made by Heracles in the Odyssey. Heracles notes the similarities between his own quests and Odysseus’ current quest to return home,334 before he describes the kinds of adventures through which he suffered as a heroic figure. The literal comparison between the older hero and the receiver of a prophetic quest, who ultimately represents the newest member of the heroic legacy, is therefore granted in both cases the role of the new hero because the assertion comes from the older of the two. Thus, the younger is marked as the older hero’s equal because of the exchange.

Calasiris’ transition between the nekyia scenes from dreamer to apparition can be understood as the full life cycle of the ancient epic hero. The product of the interaction between the old hero and the new culminates in the nekyia as a formal ritual of acknowledgement that marks the newer figure as a genuine heroic figure. Odysseus’ appearance to Calasiris identifies Calasiris as his equal and as the continuator of his heroic legacy. Calasiris’ death, however, transforms the two interactions between Heracles with Odysseus and Odysseus with Calasiris into a pattern by adding a third heroic acknowledgement. Following Calasiris’ death, he visits both Charicleia and Theagenes in a dream to aid them in their journey to Ethiopia.335 In these dreams, Calasiris is portrayed speaking in epic metre, a clear allusion to the Iliad and the Odyssey. Despite the sudden appearance of the Homeric metre, the rest of Calasiris’ nekyia lacks the elements shared between the first two scenes between himself and Odysseus, which emulate the exchanges between Odysseus and the shades of Tiresias and Heracles. Theagenes and Charicleia remark on their dream as an image of Calasiris,336 which resembles a comment of Heracles, whom Odysseus describes not as Heracles himself, but rather as a shade of the hero (εἴδωλον).337 Thus, Calasiris transitions

332 See above, 63-64. 333 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22.3. “Τοιγάρτοι τούτων ὑφέξεις οὐκ εἰς μακρὰν τὴν δίκην καὶ τῶν ὁμοίων ἐμοὶ παθῶν αἰσθήσῃ…” 334 Hom., Od. 11.617-19. “διογενὲς Λαερτιάδη, πολυμήχαν᾽ Ὀδυσσεῦ, / ἆ δείλ᾽, ἦ τινὰ καὶ σὺ κακὸν μόρον ἡγηλάζεις, ὅν περ ἐγὼν ὀχέεσκον ὑπ᾽ αὐγὰς ἠελίοιο.” 335 Heliod., Aeth., 8.11. 336 Heliod., Aeth., 8.11. “εἴτε Καλάσιρις ἦν εἴτε θεὸς εἰς Καλάσιριν φαινόμενος…” 337 Hom., Od. 11.601-604. “τὸν δὲ μετ᾽ εἰσενόησα βίην Ἡρακληείην, / εἴδωλον: αὐτὸς δὲ μετ᾽ ἀθανάτοισι θεοῖσι/ τέρπεται ἐν θαλίῃς καὶ ἔχει καλλίσφυρον Ἥβην, / παῖδα Διὸς μεγάλοιο καὶ Ἥρης χρυσοπεδίλου.” 60 into the role of heroic figure that, in its turn, identifies the protagonists of the Aethiopica as new contributors to the next generation of heroic figures.

Calasiris’ role as a “hero” figure is exemplified by his guiding role, equipping Charicleia and Theagenes with the knowledge they need to complete the novel’s main return sequence. As Calasiris’ deeds focused on spiritual guidance, rather than the acquisition of heroic trophies, the text provides no description of his body in his appearance to Charicleia and Theagenes. Rather, the omission of Calasiris’ bodily description emphasizes the messages of explanation about the pantarbe-jewelled ring and the prophetic reassurance of the arrival at Ethiopia that Calasiris imparts to the two new heroic figures, which motivates the protagonists’ journey at a moment when they both believe to be trapped by Arsace.338 Calasiris also does not compare his journey to Charicleia or Theagenes’, because the journey on which they all embark was the same voyage, despite the different destinations. While the apparition of Calasiris breaks the formulation built from previous iterations of the nekyia scene by the lack of a physical description, he nevertheless appears after his death in the context of a nekyia to grant both Charicleia and Theagenes information to which they would otherwise not have access. Prior to Calasiris’ death, Theagenes and Charicleia rely on the priest to interpret divine or foreign messages. Unlike the universe established in Homer, Theagenes and Charicleia are not granted communication with supernatural entities. Rather, all divine events are filtered through Calasiris, who guides Theagenes and Charicleia by virtue of his priestly access to the supernatural. Thus, Calasiris’ appearance to the two protagonists not only highlights Theagenes and Charicleia’s new access to the dead and the divine, but also because of this new skill, marks the two novelistic characters as equals to Calasiris. Therefore, Heliodorus does not need to establish Charicleia and Theagenes as Calasiris’ legacy through his speech, since the author had already shown the connection between himself and the two protagonists earlier in the novel during their travels. Equality established in this nekyia scene simulates a sentiment of legacy between the two protagonists, Charicleia and Theagenes, and Calasiris, who received the same honour from Odysseus, who in turn received the same from Heracles, continuing the epic heroic legacy in new bodies and endowed with new values that are nevertheless accepted and rooted in the values of the past. Thus, Calasiris, who neither fully embodies the role of a novelistic trope nor a perfect duplication of an Odyssean character,

338 Heliod., Aeth., 8.11. 61

integrates the novelistic characters into Odyssean actions by the natural action of heroic comparison that occurs in the formal ritual of transmission in the nekyia scenes.

3.2 Theagenes as the Bodily Odysseus

Heliodorus marks Theagenes as a central heroic figure in the novel with several scenes that depict him performing acts of Odyssean strength. Theagenes’ displays of strength, however, are also qualified by details that tie him explicitly to his ancestor, Achilles. While tying the main male protagonist to Achilles is certainly a trope of the novel,339 Heliodorus’ comparisons to Achilles strengthens Theagenes’ status as a natural heir of Homeric heroic skills. It has been suggested that Cnemon’s cowardice also acts as a foil for Theagenes’ bravery, emphasizing his courage through the failure of Cnemon’s fear.340 In contrast with Theagenes, Cnemon displays a fundamental inability to display such behaviour.341 As the only character associated with cowardice (δειλία), not once but twice, in the entire novel,342 Cnemon contrasts with the courage (ἀνδρεία) displayed by Theagenes.343 Theagenes’ heroic traits lead to Hydaspes’ acceptance of him as Charicleia’s husband and therefore, as the progenitor of the next generation of Ethiopian rulers. These signals of Odyssean acts and comparisons to Achilles are crucial to understanding Theagenes’ metaliterary role in the Aethiopica.

The Odyssean actions performed by Theagenes emphasize his excellence in athletics and warfare. Theagenes’ superior skills at a footrace during the Pythian games reproduce Odysseus’ achievements in the Phaeacian games and Odysseus’ skill in the footrace at Patroclus’ funerary games.344 Odysseus’ victory is further echoed by the reproduction of the order in which the trials of the games are listed.345 Another example of Theagenes’ Odyssean performance is depicted in

339 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 80n. 164, 118-124, 143, 146, 239; Alain Billault, “Characterization in the Ancient Novel,” The Novel in the Ancient World, ed. Gareth Schmeling, (Boston: Brill Academic Publishers, 2003), 126-127; Koen de Temmerman, Crafting Characters: Heroes and Heroines in the Ancient Greek Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 47-48, 92-93, 115, 143n. 106, 171, 174-5, 282-8, 303- 4, 319, 326, 327. 340 Koen de Temmerman, Crafting Characters: Heroes and Heroines in the Ancient Greek Novel, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014), 35. 341 Heliod., Aeth., 2.11, 2.18, 6.1. 342 Heliod., Aeth., 6.1, 6.5. 343 Heliod., Aeth., 2.11, 2.18, 6.1. 344 Heliod., Aeth., 4.1; Hom., Od. 8.120-198; For the funerary games in the Iliad, see Hom., Il. 23.754-783. 345 While Heliodorus omits the discus and the jumping competitions, he nevertheless writes the footrace, wrestling, and boxing contests in the same order as Homer. 62

his violent response to the conflict of the pirates.346 Heliodorus describes Theagenes’ fight against Charicleia’s suitor, Pelorus, recalling Homer’s recurring style of describing a battle sequence by the individual skirmishes between participants.347 While this battle scene is textually compared to the Iliad in style through the listing of individual skirmishes, Theagenes’ act of violence, which subdues the threat of Charicleia’s suitor, portrays not only the same act as Odysseus in the Mnesterophonia but also uses the same reason to justify Theagenes’ violence as an avenging figure of his romantic partner’s chastity (σωφροσύνη). At the end of the novel, Theagenes’ success in overcoming yet another suitor in the wrestling competition recalls Odysseus’ victory over Irus in wrestling, yet it also bears a resemblance to Odysseus’ wrestling match against Telamonian Aias at Patroclus’ funerary games.348 This allusion is primarily emphasized by the presentation of Theagenes’ muscles prior to the fight,349 which bears a distinct similarity to Odysseus’ display of muscles before his wrestling matches with Irus and Telamonian Aias.350 The subsequent success of Theagenes’ wrestling match with Meroebus reinforces the allusion to Odysseus’ matches because the outcomes agree. Therefore, Heliodorus ties Theagenes to Odysseus solely through his displays of strength and bravery.

The only physical attribute on Theagenes’ body that is compared to Odysseus serves as further emphasis of Theagenes’ heroic character. Halfway through the novel, Heliodorus signals Theagenes’ likeness to Odysseus by the description of a scar on his leg.351 Since the acquisition of Theagenes’ scar matches the explanation that Odysseus provides for his own scar, the scar associates Theagenes and Odysseus through the bravery they had to display to acquire such a wound. Heliodorus uses the scar as an indicator of Theagenes’ heroic identity and of his bravery. Therefore, Theagenes’ marked leg acts as evidence that Theagenes is not only predisposed to bravery because of his ancestry, but also through the application of his virtues.

346 Heliod., Aeth., 5.32. 347 For an example of such a scene, see Hom., Il. 5.533-575. For more detail on this topic, see Bernard Fenik, “Typical Battle Scenes in the Iliad: Studies in the Narrative Techniques of Homeric Battle Description,” Hermes Einzelschriften 21 (Wiesbaden: Franz Steiner, 1968), 1-240. See also, Peter Ahrensdorf, Homer on the Gods and Human Virtue: Creating the Foundations of Classical Civilization, (New York: Cambridge University Press, 2014), 171. 348 Hom., Od. 21.1-434; Hom., Il. 23.708-737. 349 Heliod., Aeth., 10.31. 350 See Hom., Od. 18.66-70; Hom., Il. 23.710. 351 Heliod., Aeth., 5.5; Hom., Od. 19.392; Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 123. 63

While Theagenes’ actions are reminiscent of Odysseus’ behaviour in the Odyssey, Heliodorus qualifies Theagenes’ performance with details that tie the character both to his homeland of Thessaly and to his ancestor, Achilles. Theagenes’ skill in the footrace, for example, derives from the epithet of Achilles’ swift footedness,352 rather than focusing on Odysseus’ skill at the discus.353 The novel specifically redirects Achilles’ true origins as described in Homer as a Phthian to an Ainianian.354 Once the couple arrives in Ethiopia, Theagenes once again displays his physical ability by bull leaping on an escaped sacrificial bull.355 Theagenes' act of leaping on the bull displays his specific Greek cultural ability, contrasting drastically with the Ethiopian setting. As with the wrestling of the new suitor,356 Theagenes engages with an activity of his homeland, just as Odysseus takes part in the bow contest that declares his identity as Odysseus through a physical act of strength.357 These final scenes identify Theagenes as a Thessalian, and therefore, as a reminder of his heritage as a Greek and as a descendant of Achilles. Theagenes’ identity as a descendent of Achilles shapes Heliodorus’ portrayal of the Odyssean acts he performs.

Heliodorus also presents Theagenes’ appearance as evidence for his ancestral relationship to Achilles. Heliodorus openly compares Theagenes to Achilles several times throughout the novel.358 Theagenes’ personality is revealed by his heroic beauty through statements such as Calasiris’, who describes the particular shape of Theagenes’ nose and the flaring of his nostrils as a proclamation of his courage.359 Calasiris also attributes Theagenes’ eye colour as evidence for fierceness (χαροπός) that Calasiris compares to the sea.360 Calasiris’ assessment of Theagenes’ appearance has been compared to Philostratus’ descriptions of a statue that an Assyrian youth

352 Hom., Il. 1.57–8. 353 Hom., Od. 8.186-192. Odysseus does, however, win a footrace in the Iliad. See Hom., Il. 23.756-779. 354 Heliod., Aeth., 2.34. 355 Heliod., Aeth., 10.28-30. Heliodorus’ portrayals of bull leaping match Bronze Age Mycenaean artwork across Mainland Greece. See, Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 580n.249. For a comprehensive study on Bull leaping as a Mycenean practice, see Serrano Espinosa, Manuel, Taurokathapsia Y Juegos Del Toro Desde Sus Orígenes Hasta La Época Imperial Romana, (PhD diss., Universidad Complutense De Madrid, 2002); Andrew Shapland, “Jumping to Conclusions: Bull-Leaping in Minoan Crete,” Society & Animals 21, no. 2, (2013): 194-207; Ina Wunn and Diana Grojnowski, “The Double Axe and the Bull—A Pantheon Develops,” Ancestors, Territoriality, and Gods: A Natural History of Religion, (Berlin: Springer Verlag, 2016), 248. 356 Heliod., Aeth., 10.31-32. 357 Hom., Od. 21.416-423. 358 Heliod., Aeth., 2.34, 2.35, 3.3, 3.5, 4.5. 359 Heliod., Aeth., 2.35.1. “ἡ ῥὶς ἐν ἐπαγγελίᾳ θυμοῦ καὶ οἱ μυκτῆρες ἐλευθέρως τὸν ἀέρα εἰσπνέοντες” 360 Heliod., Aeth., 2.35. “ὀφθαλμὸς οὔπω μὲν χαροπὸς χαροπώτερον δὲ μελαινόμενος σοβαρόν τε ἅμα καὶ οὐκ ἀνέραστον βλέπων, οἷον θαλάσσης ἀπὸ κύματος εἰς γαλήνην ἄρτι λεαινομένης.” 64

labels as Achilles.361 In the same way that Theagenes’ heroic qualities are identified by the description of his face, Philostratus states that the statue looks like a demigod, and reveals its character closely. The description illustrates the statue’s face as evidence of personality traits, such as ferocity (γοργὸν), brightness (φαιδρὸν), and a splendour of strength (ξὺν ἁβρότητι σφριγῶν).362 More than any other character, Theagenes’ masculine appearance is tied exclusively to the term ἀνδρεῖος,363 suggesting his particular masculine affiliation with the virtue. Although the term occurs often in the Aethiopica,364 most appearances of ἀνδρεῖος apply exclusively to Theagenes.365 The only other male character that is described in the same way as Theagenes more than once is Hydaspes, the king of Ethiopia.366 Given that Heliodorus follows Philostratus’ example that expresses beauty as a signifier for virtue, the similar comparison to Hydaspes suggests an equality not just in the two characters’ appearance, but also in their capacity for virtue.

Theagenes is portrayed as an improvement on the models of Achilles and Odysseus. Amid the several descriptions of Theagenes, he is also described as much more even-tempered than Achilles.367 This description is corroborated by the portrayal of Theagenes, who swears solemn vows that he upholds,368 chastises others for their emotions,369 quickly recovers from his own displays of emotion,370 disguises his own emotions,371 and cries only in solitude.372 The choice to portray Theagenes as less emotional has been attributed by Luca Graverini to more contemporary

361 Philostr., Her., 15.5; Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 120-122; Heliodorus, An Ethiopian Story, trans, J. R. Morgan, Collected Ancient Greek Novels, ed. B. P. Reardon, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 408n.75. 362 Philostr., Her., 15.3-5. While scholars attribute this similarity to an indication that multiple authors attributed facial features to personality characteristics, a reference to Philostratus in this moment offers a potential insight into Heliodorus’ literary project. Philostratus depicts the statue described above initially as a statue of Hector that was later appropriated and renamed Achilles. Heliodorus’ characterization of Theagenes may therefore be understood as an appropriation of the heroic figure that has been renamed and redressed to accommodate a new version of the Odyssey. Despite the Odyssean acts that Theagenes displays, Heliodorus redresses him to accommodate known descriptions of Achilles. 363 Heliod., Aeth., 1.2. 364 Heliod., Aeth., 1.2, 2.11, 2.18, 3.3, 4.8, 4.21, 5.4, 5.26, 5.29, 5.32, 6.1, 9.6, 9.15, 9.21, 10.20, 10.16 (on two occasions), 10.28. 365 Heliod., Aeth., 1.2, 3.3, 5.4, 5.26, 10.28. 366 Heliod., Aeth., 9.6, 9.21, 10.16. 367 Heliod., Aeth., 3.5; Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 123. 368 Heliod., Aeth., 4.18, 5.4, 6.9, 369 Heliod., Aeth., 1.8, 2.16, 370 Heliod., Aeth., 2.7. 371 Heliod., Aeth., 3.10. 372 Heliod., Aeth., 1.25. 65

ideas of ideal male behaviour. Graverini compares Theagenes’ altered behaviour as a presentation of ἀταραξία.373 The ideas of ἀταραξία pervaded Hellenistic philosophical ideologies,374 casting an image of masculinity that does not express emotion in the same way as the heroes of Homeric epic. However, when Theagenes mistakes Thisbe’s dead body for Charicleia’s,375 he displays a significantly rash reaction to her alleged death. This scene represents a departure from the rest of the behaviour he displays in the novel. The reason for Theagenes’ outburst occurs due to a misguided belief that Charicleia has died. Theagenes’ emotional performance can be traced to the feminization of masculine characters in the novels.376 Compared to Charicleia, Theagenes possesses little personal agency. Even though Theagenes takes on scenes as an Odyssean figure, his personal journey contains no return (νόστος) and therefore contains no recognition scenes where he must prove his identity to his family or to Charicleia. As a result, Theagenes’ main arc is more characteristic of Penelope since his story revolves around the activity of the main character. Homer depicts Penelope weeping on four occasions in the Odyssey, all of which refer to the loss of Odysseus.377 She makes it clear that she does not believe Odysseus will return, despite the information offered by Telemachus and Odysseus in disguise.378 Thus, her crying solely revolves around the loss of her husband, which she believes to be permanent. As a result, Theagenes’ emotional response to Charicleia’s alleged death matches Penelope’s constant grief in the wake of Odysseus’ absence. This possible comparison emphasizes Theagenes’ supporting role in Charicleia’s story and, ultimately, Charicleia’s central Odyssean role in the Aethiopica.

The application of Theagenes’ bravery plays a central role at the climax of the novel. The main conflicts of Theagenes’ plotline gravitate toward the acceptance of Charicleia’s father. In

373 Luca Graverini, “From the Epic to the Novelistic Hero,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 290-292. The idea of tranquility (ἀταραξία) developed initially from Epicurus but grew in Stoic thought as an ideal performance of male identity. The Stoics expanded the meaning of the term to describe the imperturbability of the sage. See, Gisella Striker, “Ataraxia: Happiness as Tranquility,” The Monist 73, no.1 (1990): 100. 374 A. A. Long, From Epicurus to Epictetus: Studies in Hellenistic and Roman Philosophy, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 20. 375 Heliod., Aeth., 2.3-4. The spontaneous reaction of weeping in response to a loss of a companion’s life is characteristically Homeric and occurs many times in both the Iliad and the Odyssey. See, Sabine Föllinger, “Tears and Crying in Archaic Greek Poetry (especially Homer),” Tears in the Graeco-Roman World, ed. Thorsten Fögen, (New York: Walter de Gruyter, 2009), 20-30. 376 Luca Graverini, “From the Epic to the Novelistic Hero,” A Companion to the Ancient Novel, (West Sussex: John Wiley & Son, 2014), 290-292. 377 Hom., Od. 1.332-336, 4.703-741, 19.249-276, 21.55-60; See also her reaction to Telemachus’ return, where she states that she never expected him to return, 17.36-44. 378 Hom., Od. 19.249-276. 66

Delphi, Calasiris names Theagenes as Charicleia’s kidnapper, which leads to Charicles’ rejection of the Thessalian. Charicles’ later appearance in Ethiopia openly rejects Theagenes as Charicleia’s husband in front of the Ethiopians, stating even that Theagenes’ fellow citizens of Oita disowned him as a figure polluted by sin.379 Charicles’ rejection, however, is eclipsed by Hydaspes’ role as Charicleia’s biological father, who accepts Theagenes based on his adherence to chastity and his presentation of courage. Hydaspes acknowledges Theagenes first by addressing the proof of the young man’s chastity.380 As the episode continues, Theagenes’ ability to apprehend the escaped bull and his success in the ensuing wrestling competition, both of which compare Theagenes to Odysseus and Achilles, identify Theagenes as a figure of virtue.381 Hydaspes validates the success of Theagenes’ displays of courage382 and reacts by emotionally lamenting Theagenes’ prospects as a sacrifice. In the end, however, he rewards his victory with a literal crowning ceremony and a final request.383 Theagenes reveals Charicleia’s marital status as his wife through the informal laws of abduction marriage by asking Charicleia to be the one who sacrifices him.384 Heliodorus’ portrayal of Theagenes therefore presents a model of behaviour that renders the Thessalian a viable husband for the heir to the Ethiopian throne and by extension, the progenitor of a new generation of Ethiopian royalty.

Heliodorus expresses his view of nature through his portrayal of Theagenes. As a descendent of Achilles, Theagenes naturally possesses the skills characteristic of Achilles. Even though Heliodorus depicts characters who are predisposed to heroic bravery and happen to be descended from heroes, Heliodorus’ characters ultimately adhere to their own nature. There are many ancient accounts of natural talent as an explanation for success. In the Classical period, Plato and Aristotle both remark on nature as a predisposed skill, but they do so in different ways. Plato imagines his new Athens built from people broken into three categories based on the qualities of their nature and the characteristics they possess.385 Aristotle describes an understanding of natural

379 Heliod., Aeth., 10.36. 380 Heliod., Aeth., 10.9. 381 Heliod., Aeth., 10.30-31. 382 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 122. 383 Heliod., Aeth., 10.32-33. 384 Heliod., Aeth., 10.33. For more information on abduction marriages in the ancient Mediterranean, see Donald Lateiner, “Abduction Marriage in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Greek, Roman and Byzantine Studies 38, no. 4 (1997): 409-439. 385 Pl., Resp.,456b-457b; Kevin Robb, Literary & Paideia in Ancient Greece, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1994), 192. 67

versus proper virtue, though he acknowledges the cultivation of proper virtue through the acquisition of wisdom.386 While subsequent writers drew primarily from Platonic ideas of nature rather than Aristotelian, later authors return (perhaps unintentionally) to Aristotle’s argument. Plutarch questions why the acquisition of morality is not regarded as a honed skill rather as a predisposed nature, suggesting that his current period saw the latter as the more common idea. He provides evidence that previous authors understood virtue both as a guided education and as a natural affinity towards virtue.387 Longinus remarks on the belief of natural talent as the sole producer of genius as flawed since it gives no credit to the role of crafting (τέχνη). Instead, he argues that nature replaces the idea of fortune or privilege, whereas crafting that of good judgement (εὐβουλίας).388 Heliodorus’ presentation of Theagenes adheres to these understandings of nature, as his descent from a Homeric hero predisposes him to expected heroic behaviour, yet his excellence remains grounded in his actions and how he practices the skills he naturally inherited, rather than rewarding him simply for his pedigree. As education was essential to the acquisition of ἀνδρεία,389 the virtue of ἀνδρεία, as its name implies, is often correlated with manliness, although the term is not exclusively associated with the male gender.390 Heliodorus confirms Theagenes’ diligent practice of his athletics in the environment of the gymnasium,391 suggesting that Theagenes is not only naturally inclined towards the excellence he achieves, but rather is a patron of practice. Therefore, Theagenes’ role in the novel as the rightful romantic partner for Charicleia is rooted in archaic heroic tradition as a descendant of Achilles, which tailors his appearance and excellence in athletics to ideas of Homeric heroism. However, Heliodorus’ emphasis on the significance of practice is emphasized by the rewards of characters who value practice. In Theagenes’ case, when he performs Odyssean acts that emphasize practice, he is

386 Arist. Eth. Nic. 1144b4-1145a2; Howard Curzer, Aristotle and the Virtues, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 12. “Learners move from natural virtue to proper virtue by acquiring practical wisdom.” 387 Plut., Mor. De Prof. Virt.,1.1-1.3. 388 [Longinus], Subl., 1.2. “γεννᾶται γάρ, φησί, τὰ μεγαλοφυῆ καὶ οὐ διδακτὰ παραγίνεται, καὶ μία τέχνη πρὸς αὐτὰ τὸ πεφυκέναι…ἐγὼ δὲ ἐλεγχθήσεσθαι τοῦθ᾿ ἑτέρως ἔχον φημί, εἰ επισκέψαιτό τις ὅτι ἡ φύσις, ὥσπερ τὰ πολλὰ ἐν τοῖς παθητικοῖς καὶ διηρμένοις αὐτόνομον, οὕτως οὐκ εἰκαῖόν τι κἀκ παντὸς ἀμέθοδον εἶναι φιλεῖ· καὶ ὅτι αὕτη μὲν πρῶτόν τι καὶ ἀρχέτυπον γενέσεως στοιχεῖον ἐπὶ πάντων ὑφέστηκεν, τὰς δὲ ποσότητας καὶ τὸν ἐφ᾿ ἑκάστου καιρὸν ἔτι δὲ τὴν ἀπλανεστάτην ἄσκησίν τε καὶ χρῆσιν ἱκανὴ πορίσαι καὶ συνενεγκεῖν ἡ μέθοδος…ἡ μὲν φύσις τὴν τῆς εὐτυχίας τάξιν ἐπέχει, ἡ τέχνη δὲ τὴν τῆς εὐβουλίας·” 389 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 101. 390 Meriel Jones, Playing the Man: Performing Masculinities in the Ancient Greek Novel, ed. David Konstan and Alison Sharrock, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2012), 94. 391 Heliod., Aeth., 10.31. 68

rewarded by his coronation scene with Hydaspes and the acceptance of him as Charicleia’s lawful husband in accordance with Ethiopian law.

3.3 Charicleia as the New Odysseus

Just as Theagenes’ depiction of Odysseus focuses exclusively on his masculine attributes, Charicleia’s emulation of Odysseus is qualified heavily by her gender as a female figure. Like Calasiris, Charicleia bears a strong relationship to religion, which explains her practiced skills in physical and mental strength that allow her to achieve her heroic tasks despite her gender limitations. Through Charicleia’s ability, she emulates the actions of Odysseus unlike Calasiris and Theagenes in the novel, who also perform aspects of Odysseus. As the novel’s arc has been redefined as an Odyssey to such a detailed degree, the central role of Charicleia within the novel categorically marks her as an Odysseus figure on the journey of transition both geographically across the Mediterranean and spiritually in a rite of passage, as argued by Tim Whitmarsh.392 This format encourages the reading of Homeric similarities and distinct differences that redefine Charicleia according to a paradigm informed by the figure of Odysseus. Charicleia is not only portrayed as an Odyssean figure because of her transportation from Delphi to Ethiopia, but also the way her character changes and the Odyssean acts she commits while embarking on the journey.

Like Calasiris, Charicleia also performs Odyssean acts that span across the entirety of Odysseus’ journey, further reinforcing her central role in the text. The novel opens with a rendition of the Mnesterophonia episode, which displays Charicleia as the avenging Odysseus, surrounded by a setting that invites descriptions from the scenery of the Homeric episode, as noted above.393 Heliodorus clearly ties the deaths of the pirates to Charicleia’s bow,394 which is later corroborated by Calasiris, who explains how Charicleia rushes into the crowd of pirate-suitors with her bow beside Theagenes.395 Later in the text, Charicleia listens to not one but two prophecies and is specifically mentioned in the third. Charicleia’s relationship to the dead underscores her central role as the protagonist of the text, emphasizing repeatedly her prophesied arrival in Ethiopia.396 Charicleia’s final Odyssean act coincides with her arrival in Ethiopia as she is recognized and

392 Tim Whitmarsh, “The Writes of Passage: Cultural Initiation in Heliodorus’ Aethiopica,” Constructing Identities in Late Antiquity, ed. Richard Miles, (London: Routledge, 1999), 16-40. 393 Heliod., Aeth., 1.1-2; Hom., Od. 22.1-125; See above, pg. 43-48. 394 Heliod., Aeth., 1.2; See above, page 46-47. 395 Heliod., Aeth., 5.32. 396 Heliod., Aeth., 5.22, 6.15, 8.11. 69

reintegrated into her family. The combination of Charicleia’s allusive episodes culminates in a broad depiction of Odysseus’ plot in the Odyssey. Unlike Theagenes and Calasiris, Charicleia’s performance does not gravitate towards one aspect of Odysseus, but rather all aspects. Charicleia expresses her cognitive ability to deceive in her lies to Thyamis,397 her adopted father Charicles,398 and in her ability to interpret prophecies, such as Calasiris’ apparition in a dream.399 Similarly, Charicleia displays her abilities in archery, which are presented on the Egyptian beach and are described in dialogue later in the novel.400 Heliodorus’ choice to depict Charicleia as an adept archer is mainly traced to her religious background, as her worship of Artemis encouraged her to practice with a bow.401 Therefore, Heliodorus explains that her association and skill with the bow and arrow are an attribute of her worship, which distracts from the portrayal of her as a murderer of several men. The differences in Charicleia’s identity from Odysseus further reframes the meaning behind the Odyssean acts, as her identity as an Artemesian acolyte reshapes the Odyssean connotation of the bow to mean something different from the alluded concept’s original meaning.

Charicleia’s identity, as an Ethiopian, ties her closely to Homeric descriptors that explain her devout pursuit of her religion. Ethiopia is cited repetitively in Homer as an epicentre for the worship of the Olympians, as several gods retreat there to receive hecatombs by the people, who are labelled as honourable, (ἀμύμων).402 Thus, Charicleia’s ties to religion are amplified further by the very fact that her place of origin is a sacred place visited regularly by the Homeric gods. The portrayal of Ethiopians as wise men is further emphasized by Calasiris, who considers Ethiopian wisdom to be superior to his own Egyptian wisdom. After Calasiris establishes the cultural superiority of Egyptian wisdom to that of Greek, Calasiris later asserts the superiority of Ethiopian wisdom to that of his own Egyptian sagacity.403 If Calasiris’ own arguments were applied to Charicleia as an Ethiopian, the text indicates that she possesses more innate wisdom than Calasiris. This paradigm that Calasiris establishes is further reinforced by his inability to trick Charicleia. To make her believe in her ailment of the evil eye, Calasiris puts on a fake ritual, which

397 Heliod., Aeth., 1.22. 398 Heliod., Aeth., 4.13. 399 Heliod., Aeth., 8.11. 400 Heliod., Aeth.,. 1.1-1.2; Heliod., Aeth., 5.32. 401 Heliod., Aeth., 2.33. 402 Hom., Il. 1.423-427, 23.205-207; Od. 1.22-25, 5.282-287. 403 Heliod., Aeth., 4.12. 70

Charicleia sees through first by smiling and shaking her head before contradicting his diagnosis.404 Heliodorus emphasizes Calasiris’ failure in this scene by displaying Calasiris tricking Theagenes in precisely the same way, who instead believes him without question.405 As a result, Heliodorus codes the identity of one’s geographical origins based in the quantity of wisdom possessed by each character.

Heliodorus emphasizes the significance of Hellenized foreigners by reinterpreting Homer’s identity not as a Greek but as an exiled Egyptian. As noticed by others, Calasiris’ description of Homer’s biography matches the stories of both Calasiris and Charicleia.406 Not only does Calasiris tie his own identity to Homer by labelling him as an Egyptian, Charicleia’s character is also tied to Homer because of the physical indicator on her body that confirms her birthright. However, since Homer is tied to the god Hermes as his son,407 there is also room to identify Odysseus within Homer’s biographical description, as mythographers also recognize Odysseus as a descendent of Hermes.408 Most notably, these comparisons between Homer, Odysseus, and Heliodorus’ characters exclude the two most prominent Greek characters, Theagenes and Cnemon. Despite their Greek identities, their moments of Odyssean scenes are elided from this comparison. While Theagenes and Cnemon both portray Odysseus in the novel, their appearances are notably fewer and emphasizes the interplay between Cnemon’s cowardice and Theagenes’ manly courage in their Homeric acts, which removes the two Greek characters from the main progression of the novel’s fabula in favour of two Hellenized foreigners. Since Heliodorus centres the Odyssean allusions on Calasiris and Charicleia, who both originate outside of Greece, the author conveys a preference for Hellenized foreigners in his act of centralization.

As Charicleia is transported across the Mediterranean, the text indicates specific changes to her character. In addition to Odysseus, Charicleia also performs many actions that tie her to

404 Heliod., Aeth., 4.5. 405 Heliod., Aeth., 3.17. 406 J. J. Winkler, “The Mendacity of Kalasiris and the Narrative Strategy of Heliodoros’ Aithiopika,” Oxford Readings in the Greek Novel, ed. Simon Swain, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999), 295; Luke Pitcher, “A Shaggy Thigh Story: Kalasiris on the Life of Homer (Heliodorus 3.14),” Writing and Biography in Greece and Rome: Narrative Techniques and Fictionalization, ed. Koen de Temmerman and Kristoffel Demoen, (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016), 294; See also, Silvia Montiglio, Wandering in Ancient Greek Culture, (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005), 236-239; Robert Lamburton, Homer the Theologian: Neoplatonist Allegorical Readings and the Growth of the Epic Tradition, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 254. 407 Heliod., Aeth., 3.14. 408 Apollod. Bibl. 1.9.16. 71

Telemachus. These acts, all of which occur before Calasiris’ death, often depict Charicleia in association with Calasiris both as his daughter and as the child of the Odysseus figure within the scene. As listener of Cnemon’s narrative, both Charicleia and Theagenes assume the role of Telemachus, who receives Menelaus’ comparable story in the Odyssey.409 Charicleia’s role as Telemachus resumes upon her arrival at Memphis and reuniting with Theagenes. Once Theagenes recognizes Charicleia, he compares the lights in her eyes to sunlight through clouds.410 The light that Theagenes sees in Charicleia’s eyes coincides with his recognition, drawing from the available metaphors for literal illumination and mental clarity. This phrasing, however, bears a striking resemblance to Penelope’s reception of Telemachus upon his return to Ithaca. Penelope describes Telemachus as a sweet light (γλυκερὸν φάος). In both scenes, the novel positions Charicleia as a Telemachus figure, which further emphasizes Calasiris as a guiding figure, as he consistently takes on the role of Odysseus during these moments. Charicleia, however, takes on the performance of Odyssean acts in Calasiris’ absence both before and after he dies. After Calasiris dies, however, the actions of Odysseus continue to be portrayed both by Charicleia and Theagenes. Calasiris’ death, therefore, provides Charicleia with more opportunities to perform Odyssean acts.

Heliodorus portrays the identity of his characters as dependent on their knowledge of themselves. Given that Heliodorus depicts characters who are predisposed to heroic bravery or to regal behaviour and happen to be descended from heroes or royalty, Heliodorus’ characters generally adhere to the natures implied by their birthright.411 This nature, however, is nuanced by the fact that it is often hindered by one’s own knowledge of the self. When Charicleia believes she is the daughter of a Pythian priest, she commits her life to the worship of Artemis.412 However, when she learns of her true identity as the daughter of the king and queen of Ethiopia, Calasiris notes a change in the way she changes her behaviour to accommodate her new identity.413 Heliodorus describes Charicleia’s discovery of her identity as an awakening (διανιστᾶσα) of her

409 See above, 32. 410 Heliod., Aeth., 7.7.7. “ταῖς βολαῖς τῶν ὀφθαλμῶν τῆς Χαρικλείας ὥσπερ ὑπ´ ἀκτῖνος ἐκ νεφῶν διᾳττούσης καταυγασθείς…” 411 Examples of this phenomenon include: Thyamis and Petosiris, who both at some point assume the role of high priest of Memphis in the place of their father, Calasiris (7.2-3); Theagenes, who follows the role of his heroic ancestor, Achilles (2.34-35); Cnemon, who was a respected Athenian citizen as his father was before they were both exiled (1.9); and the son of the old woman at Bessa, who chastises his mother for revealing their secrets to strangers, implying that he also engaged with similar acts of necromancy. (6.15) 412 Heliod., Aeth., 2.33, 3.4, 5.31. 413 Heliod., Aeth., 4.12.1. “Ὡς δὲ ἐγνώρισεν ἑαυτήν, καὶ τὸ φρόνημα διανιστᾶσα πλέον τῷ γένει προσέδραμε…” 72

full spirit (τὸ φρόνημα ... πλέον), which portrays her ignorance of herself as a kind of sleep, emphasized by the fullness of her spirit awakening. Thus, Charicleia’s life in Delphi can be observed not as a departure from her true self, but rather as the best performance of her identity given her knowledge of herself. Her solemn pursuit of religion depicts the compatibility of Charicleia’s Delphian life with her newer life, for both emphasize the significance of chastity. Thus, Charicleia’s shift in identity does not change Charicleia, but rather, grants her knowledge of herself that better informs her actions and beliefs.

While Charicleia’s change in the knowledge of her own self alters the way she acts, she is also granted the ability to embody three types of female identity at the same time, which includes her identity as: an acolyte of Artemis, the wife of Theagenes, and daughter to the king of Ethiopia. Heliodorus emphasizes these three aspects of Charicleia’s identity repeatedly throughout the Aethiopica, which accentuate her role in the text as the embodiment of new heroic traits. As Charicleia navigates these aspects of female roles, she sheds one identity for another. By eloping with Theagenes, Charicleia cuts herself off from her life in Delphi. In returning to Ethiopia, however, Charicleia reunites with her natural family, where they accept her return and her marriage to Theagenes.414 Since Ethiopia only allows married women to handle a sacrificial knife, Charicleia’s marriage to Theagenes also allows her to become a priestess.415 The novel ends after Hydaspes decrees Charicleia and Theagenes as priest to the sun god and priestess to the moon goddess, which allows Charicleia to retain her older identity as a religious follower alongside her new ones as wife and princess.416 As a priestess and priest, Charicleia and Theagenes are invited into the same caste as Calasiris, whose practice in interpretation led to his ability to interpret and connect to the divine world.417 The depiction of Charicleia’s multi-faceted persona at the end of the novel as a married figure of authority both as a priestess and as a princess highlight the elements she displays as a new iteration of a heroic figure.

Charicleia’s foreign wisdom and religious devotion reinforce the two new aspects of the of the heroic figure, which build on the array of heroic attributes introduced by previous versions. While Heracles’ myth identifies the ancient hero as a figure of immense strength, Odysseus’

414 Heliod., Aeth., 10.32-41. 415 Heliod., Aeth., 10.32-33. 416 Heliod., Aeth., 10.41. 417 Heliod., Aeth., 3.16. 73 heroism nuanced that strength with the ability to mentally outwit his opponents. Calasiris, who lacked the physical strength of his predecessors due to his age, entirely utilized his skill in manipulation as a method for overcoming his obstacles, which he attributes to his Egyptian wisdom. Calasiris also introduces the significance of religion to interact with the supernatural world to the heroic figure legacy, since it is the only way novelistic characters access figures beyond the natural world as the heroes of Greek epic are depicted doing in Homer. Charicleia’s contribution to this legacy further emphasizes the significance of her religion and foreign origins introduced by Calasiris, yet her iteration presents the traits as if to depict heroic representation outside of the canonization of Greekness, which is emphasized by the positive portrayal of Ethiopian wisdom. Charicleia does, however, bear some traditional heroic traits, such as her skill with the bow and her close ties to royalty. Moreover, Charicleia is not alone granted the role of the heroic legacy but receives the honour alongside Theagenes. While Charicleia emulates a version of Odysseus also exhibited by Calasiris, Theagenes’ strength and Greek origins identify him as a traditional, more physical model of the Greek hero embodied by Heracles, Achilles, and Odysseus. Together, the two novelistic protagonists establish a new model of heroism that is built on the novelistic tropes of equality and romance, in addition to emulation of the previous models that aid in the expression of the new. Heliodorus provides an in-depth commentary on heroism that roots itself in the Homeric literary tradition combined with contemporary ideas of religion and superior foreign wisdom as a direct result of the combined epic-novelistic functions created from novelistic characters and Homeric actions. Heliodorus’ novel, therefore, recreates an identifiable and traceable system of reference to the Odyssey, that incorporates several kinds of recognizable literary markers and allusive strategies to continue the Homeric literary tradition with a new interpretation of heroism.

Conclusion

Heliodorus’ novel provides a deep insight into the literary consciousness of the western world. By linking the Aethiopica to the Odyssey with different allusive markers, Heliodorus uses the well-known literary tradition of Homer to shape his new ideas. While this thesis has reviewed possible avenues of interpretation in the Aethiopica, there are still so many avenues to approach the Aethiopica with respect to Homer and to the other allusions in the text. In the next few pages, I shall reflect on the research questions I have answered in my thesis and the pitfalls I ran into within my research. Concluding these reflections, I shall offer some possible projects in the future that may stem from this work or to inspire different projects that in some way may further progress the modern understanding of the allusion in literature.

Heliodorus alludes to Homer using several distinct methods of reference such as the reformulation of the Aethiopica’s structure, the emulated actions and settings that formed episodes, and the novelistic tropes of characters all transform Homeric material into recognizable but different elements. By imposing the same restrictions of narrative that motivate and produce distinct effects as the Odyssey, Heliodorus effectively alludes to the Odyssey without referring to the epic poem through a traditional understanding of an allusion by way of a quotation or paraphrase. Rather, the markers allude to the Odyssey because the chronology of the text is rearranged to accommodate the uniquely recognizable chronology of the Odyssey.

The Aethiopica contains several markers within the structure of the novel that tie the organization of the narrative to the Odyssey. Primarily, the portrayal of the structure matches the Odyssey’s distinct format due to the arrangement of three primary narrative voices. Heliodorus not only distributes the novel into three distinct voices, but he also assigns the same narrative roles to these narrators, which recreate the embedded narratives featured in the Telemachy and Odysseus’ account to the Phaeacians in the Odyssey. Heliodorus begins the novel in medias res, which, while a Homeric device, is a feature present in other ancient novels. Unlike the other novels, however, Heliodorus reinstitutes the same connection between the in medias res scene and the second embedded narrative that establishes the ring narrative of the Odyssey. Calasiris’s narrative provides a retrospective account of the main narrative, which ends by explaining the circumstances of the in medias res scene. Similarly, Heliodorus also retains the same links between his first embedded narrative and its reflection of the main narrative plotline. Cnemon, who depicts a narrative of

deviant love that contrasts with the ideal love represented in Theagenes and Charicleia, plays the same role in the narrative as Menelaus in the Odyssey. The depiction of Menelaus’ life in Lacedaemon without a legitimate heir similarly contrasts with both Nestor and Odysseus, who both produce male heirs from their marriages.

Heliodorus recreates such a consistent reformulation and continuation of Homer’s epic narratives both through the manipulation of content and organization of the novel. To emphasize the allusive markers in the structure of the novel, Heliodorus also fills his text with a series of Homeric vocabulary and paraphrases. While Heliodorus draws most of the emulated vocabulary from the Iliad, the allusions frequently contribute to the recognition of the overall episode as an allusion to the Odyssey. Heliodorus begins in medias res in reference to both the opening of the Iliad and the second to last episode of the Odyssey, encompassing the whole epic narrative in one. He emphasizes similarities to Odyssean scenes through correlation or direct reversal to both the actions of Odyssean characters and the settings in which they perform those actions. In the Aethiopica, the subsequent effect of the structure combined with the episodes of the Odyssey express an explicit allusion not to one but several scenes. The effect is achieved through the concatenation of scenes by Heliodorus, in the same order and relative duration as in the epic poem and therefore, the novel alludes to the entire Odyssey in a way that transcends any degree attained by the other ancient novels. Heliodorus achieves this effect by the arrangement of changes in narrative voices and the placement of scenes in an order and at an extra-diegetic location that reflect the arrangements and placement of similar voices and scenes in the model text.

Since the characters of the Aethiopica differ drastically from the Odyssey, but rather follow tropes visible in previous iterations, Heliodorus’ allusions to Homer are obscured by the changes in the performers of the actions in their corresponding setting. Heliodorus disguises the paraphrased action of the Odyssey by sharing Homeric actions among his characters in accordance with their personality, rather than by coding individuals to specific identities to Homeric heroes. Specifically, Heliodorus divides the character of Odysseus among the three protagonists. Calasiris, who performs Homeric actions that emphasize his wisdom, uses the skill to support Charicleia and Theagenes along their journey by manipulation of family, opponents, and allies through lies if need be. While the novels generally cut off characters from accessing divine or supernatural figures, Calasiris’ role as a priest grants him access to supernatural events that occur to Odysseus

in the Odyssey. In some ways, Calasiris represents Heliodorus’ departure from Homer and the other novels, since he provides constant guidance along the journey until his death. Calasiris’ presence in the novel, however, establishes a bridge between the other characters and the Homeric allusions involved with the divine, because he acts as an interpreter, experiences Odysseus’ communication with dead in the Nekyia scene and has frequent communication with the gods like epic heroes, a feature infrequent in the world of the novels. Theagenes is at first glance modelled on the heroes of the Iliad, because his actions emphasize his athletic skills and traditional aspects of the Iliadic Greek hero. As a descendant of Achilles Theagenes represents an aspect of Greek heroism that is also identified with Odysseus in the context of his exploits. While Calasiris introduces new elements into the legacy of the Greek hero in his acts of trickery and control over Odysseus’ character narration, Charicleia’s performance of Odysseus’ acts categorize her as a new iteration of the heroism displayed throughout the novel by Calasiris. Charicleia’s significance derives primarily from the fact that the novel centres around her return to Ethiopia to reclaim her identity as princess. Heliodorus presents Charicleia shedding her previous life for a new one as she learns of her true identity throughout her travels. Her return to Ethiopia, however, proves to accommodate both her previous identity as a Greek and her newfound identity as a princess. Despite the core Odyssean actions that the young heroine performs, Charicleia represents the new attributes that Heliodorus introduces into the legacy of the evolving hero. Heliodorus often portrays Charicleia’s religious convictions and foreign origins as the attributes that grant Charicleia the ability to perform her heroic acts, which centre these acts as Heliodorus’ emendation to the hero of the Homeric literary tradition.

By endowing three different characters, among which are an old and a young man and a young maiden, with Odysseus’ traits, Heliodorus establishes new correlations between the Homeric actions and the new reasons that motivate the novelistic characters to perform the actions attributed to Odysseus. Because he infuses the novelistic tropes with multiple layers of Homeric allusions, Heliodorus creates new functions that portray the novelistic hero as an improvement on the epic model. Heliodorus poses the novelistic hero not as a singular figure, but a pair of people who form a series of traits that is rooted to traditional ideas of virtue while simultaneously inviting values of religion and of foreign voices that were previously underrepresented in epic narratives or portrayed only as villains. The choice instead to tie beauty, goodness, and aspirational virtues to non-Greek figures displays a radical shift in the value of natural born Greeks, particularly in the

case of Heliodorus, who draws from Philostratus’ understanding of Eastern wisdom to communicate foreign superiority over Greek culture and who portrays Homer as an Egyptian. Heliodorus therefore invites Homeric material into the novel to showcase a new iteration of a hero, which retains the constructed heroic features of the epic while also using foreign wisdom and religious access to the divine as links to the portrayal of literary information normally omitted from the novels in favour of a more Neoplatonic depiction of the gods as forces of influence rather than characters.

This research had a strictly literary perspective and tried to look at the Aethiopica first in its dialogue with the Homeric source text, then at the significance of its construction on this backdrop. The various ancient and modern understandings of what constitutes an allusion, the fact that there is no cohesive idea of an allusion, and that no definition (modern or ancient) described what Heliodorus does in his novel as an allusion, first appeared as a conundrum. Yet there seemed no label that could be applied to the structural similarities between the Aethiopica and the Odyssey other than an allusion. In order to overcome this difficulty, I separated the definition of an allusion from the necessary use of a text to accommodate any moment within the Aethiopica that specifically relates to the Odyssey as a source. All the elements that tie Heliodorus’ novel to the Odyssey were therefore available for analysis and interpretation. Thus, it became easier to dissect which elements were related to novelistic tropes but could be traced back to Homeric material and which aspects were deliberate reshaping of the epic poems on Heliodorus’ part. While it is not possible to prove that all the elements that tie the novel to the Odyssey as the product of the author’s intention, I showed the repetitive patterns that surfaced that most of the allusions formed a larger design, suggesting intention due to the complexity of the allusions.

A complication that further impeded this project was the understanding of an allusion as it is communicated in ancient literature. While some studies looked at the emulations of Homer in Heliodorus’ novel and acknowledged the structural similarities identifiable between the two texts, this concept was never labelled as an allusion nor was the Aethiopica usually the topic of scrutiny for Homeric allusions. Since an allusion was tied so closely to the idea of emulated vocabulary, most studies on allusions in the ancient novels instead prefer to explore Chariton’s earlier novel, due to the large body of quotations that have been recognized in the text. To a certain extent, the use of quoted language presents an undeniably useful proof that an ancient author knew the quoted

78 text well enough to reproduce the same phrase and is therefore evidence of a conscious invitation of extratextual reading. Paraphrased language is also a common attribute of ancient literature, yet it receives much less attention from modern scholars by comparison to the quotation. Certainly, the Aethiopica produced far more different and interesting sequences of Homeric material than quoted phrases. In the Aethiopica, quotations made up such a small sample of the alluded similarities between the two texts that the data implied Heliodorus’ novel to possess very few ties to Homer’s Odyssey, when arguably, the novel correlates very closely with the epic poem. It was therefore essential to this study to develop a working definition of allusion that accommodates the Aethiopica, as all other definitions focused on individual instances, which divert so heavily from Heliodorus’ approach.

The allusions in the Aethiopica were relatively easy to trace because the narrative structure of the Odyssey is so recognizable, that even a cursory knowledge of the Odyssey suffices to recognize it broadly. The allusions were not only deliberate, but also designed by the author to accommodate the reader’s recognition of Homeric material within the text.

Beyond the Homeric actions and setting, Heliodorus fills his novel with contrasts that position characters amongst one another so that they can all be read through a Homeric filter and their interactions mirror the episodes in the Homeric story structure. Almost every character in the Aethiopica possesses a counterpart who represents an opposing persona. Theagenes’ bravery is contrasted with Cnemon’s cowardice, Calasiris’ wisdom with Charicles’ naivety, Charicleia’s chastity with Arsace’s lasciviousness, and she in turn is reflected by Demainete in her relationship to her slave and to her romantic partner. Heliodorus also portrays the characters who set up the same reflective relationships seen in the Odyssey: while Cnemon’s relationships are unrequited and based on an inequality of power, Charicleia and Theagenes’ relationship is founded on equality. The contrasts of the mirrored characters not only iterate undesirable portrayals of behaviour, but also emphasize and reinforce the ideal traits enacted by the main characters. Heliodorus recreates the polarized relationships of the Odyssey through his emulation of reflections between his protagonists and various antagonistic figures in exactly the way they are portrayed in Homer.

The reason why allusion – and Heliodorus’ presentation of allusions – in the ancient novel are significant is because the novel does not exist in a vacuum, but rather inspired the creation of

the modern secular novel. From fifteenth-century cardinals to Anna Laetitia Barbauld in the early Romantic period, the Aethiopica is named as one of the greatest products of ancient literature. The modern response to Heliodorus’ novel in addition to the other ancient novels during this time coincided with the modern recreation of the novel. The similarities not only to the form of the ancient novels but also to the continued allusions to ancient literature in modern novels identify the genre of the novel not only by its lack of form, but rather by its lack of a fixed form and its ability to integrate extratextual content without disrupting the confines of the genre.

The study of the ancient novels, while popular in the past few decades, still represents a relatively new field. Since my definition of an allusion encompassed a much wider range of literary material than is normally assigned to the literary device, my approach reviewed Heliodorus’ text as a whole rather than identifying specific forms of alluded text. As a result, I was able to identify links between the Aethiopica and the Odyssey with more depth because the allusive design reinforced itself in different areas with several types of markers. The end of Calasiris’ narrative, for example, shifted the rhythm of alluding vocabulary significantly, which reinforced the structural shift in narrative voice and change in narrative direction thereafter. I suggest that this approach may retrieve interesting results from the other surviving extant novels, which may reveal, as this project has revealed in Heliodorus’ novel, other possible patterns that have been overlooked because of a rigid definition of allusion that did not exist in ancient literature.

Another possible direction for this study may expand on the allusive analysis of Heliodorus’ literary project in my third chapter. While I explored the examples of a heroic legacy and the new portrayals, other thematic approaches may also be applied to the distribution of allusions. Since the Aethiopica combines novelistic tropes with Homeric allusions, Heliodorus may be observed not just commentating on the role of the hero, but also on the Homeric portrayal of femininity, the central significance of religiosity, or the deconstruction of Odysseus’ personality to isolate the traits of Odysseus that were more preferred over traits that were less so. These examples occurred to me as I wrote this project, although any epic theme may be identified in response to the Aethiopica, as we in the scholarly community may gain more insight into Heliodorus’ overall project.

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